


Beneath The Waves

by Ladytalon



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, F/M, Grumpy Old Men, Humor, Mild Smut, Misunderstandings, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Shapeshifting, Tiny Tina's Assault on Dragon Keep, alchemists gone wild, sexist buffoonery, the sea creature your mother warned you about
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-20 20:25:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 81,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6023491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladytalon/pseuds/Ladytalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Patricia Tannis just wants to be left alone to conduct her research and find a way to make the Alchemist's Guild accept a female member. When she stumbles across a foul-mouthed and rude mythical creature, Patricia realizes that she may have just found the perfect solution to her problems...all that's left is to convince him to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Which Crabs DO Have Flippers

**Author's Note:**

> ...because, really, who _doesn't_ love the idea of Grouchy Merman!Zed?!?!?!?!? Updates will be as sporadic as usual since I have about a million things going at the same time, but I promise to try my best. I had Cameron Stalheim's 'dying merman' sculpture in mind while writing about his tail though I imagine Zed keeps himself slightly more, ah, _concealed_.

Patricia loves nothing better than to escape her village on whatever errands become necessary - anything's better than staying in that horrid place where there's so many _people_. Flamerock Refuge was pleasant enough when the Handsome Sorcerer was in power, keeping the villagers huddled together with the fear that he might send his Orcs or Enchanted Skeletons against them, but now that the sky is clear and bright... _everyone_ seems to think it's acceptable to stroll along, _whistling_ , and bidding her good day. Bidding _her_ a good day!

It's with an overwhelming sense of relief that she sets off for the Unassuming Docks in search of more Eridium to fuel her experimentations - the fools she shares a village with seem to think she's an expert in leatherwork, just because her family had taken up that distasteful trade. It's enough that her last name of _Tannis_ fairly screams of animal hide and offal; she doesn't need random fools - and who is she kidding, because they're all fools - approaching her for materials to make themselves maps they'll undoubtedly ruin by sticking knives in to make a dramatic point during a war council.

She stops to lift the hood of her cloak and swings her pack back onto her shoulder, hoping that no one passes her and attempts to strike up a conversation. Traveling this far away from Flamerock Refuge for eridium is strictly unnecessary, but Patricia has been longing for some time to herself. The band of adventurers who had rescued Queen Butt Stallion have decided to settle in the village and, upon learning that she is the only resident alchemist, requested that she _work_ for them. Now there are many more _requests,_ which are more like thinly-veiled threats if she really thinks about it when she's in a bad mood, and Patricia has had enough. With any luck at all, none of the so-called Hunters will have tracked her here.

The skeletons and golems have left the Docks in a truly sad state, though she can see where settlers have moved in and begun to repair things. There are actual _fishing_ boats upon the water - anything caught in those depths certainly wouldn't be anything _she_ would eat, and Patricia makes a mental note to stay away from any taverns while she's here. She decides to take a detour through the Unrelatively Unvisited Shoreline, reasoning that since it seems deserted she shouldn't have to deal with any unwanted social interaction.

Patricia soon has cause to rue this decision because just as the Docks fade into the distance and the sweetness of solitude begins to lift her heart, she hears the sounds of someone swearing angrily. She stops dead in her tracks, panic and irritation welling up inside her before curiosity takes hold...Patricia could swear she hears the chiming voice of a _pixie_. The thought of finding an actual pixie is enough to get her moving towards the fracas, and she circles around a pile of rubble and broken pottery to see what the fuss is all about.

There is indeed a real pixie, tiny and perfect, circling about and swooping down to attack the head and shoulders of a man half-submerged in the water. "You dick!" the pixie snarls, swerving away from the man's hand as he tries in vain to catch her. Patricia's not quite sure why he doesn't just get out of the water and run away, if he's been stupid enough to harm the creature in the first place. "Now I can say I was provoked!"

"Leave me the hell alone," the man roars at her, the grasping fingers of his other hand finally coming into contact with a stone that he uses to defend himself from another attack. "I didn't provoke nothin,' you li'l piece-a Orc dung! Get outta here!"

Patricia creeps closer, intent upon studying the tiny creature - and perhaps even _catching_ it - but its next swoop around the man's head puts her in view. The pixie immediately darts towards her with a tinkling laugh. "Catch me," it cries, dipping down to tug Patricia's goggles right off of her forehead. "Hey, listen!"

"Give those back at once, demonic creature!" Patricia exclaims. How dare it? "I simply wish to _study_ you-"

"I'm too fast for you!" the pixie taunts, dropping her goggles into the water and swooping away with another laugh.

Patricia rushes over, intending to reclaim the stolen goggles, but they've already sunk out of sight. "Wretched creature," she grumbles. "This would never have happened if you hadn't agitated it!" She turns to the man, who glares up at her.

"Ain't that just like a woman - blamin' her own problems on any man in sight," he complains bitterly. 

"Listen here, you sexist buffoon-" 

"Learn them fancy pancy words in your big ol' village, didja?" he jeers.

Patricia narrows her eyes at him, noticing for the first time that he isn't wearing a shirt. The fact that he is impressively muscled and fairly handsome, especially for a man his age, doesn't escape her though she hardly makes a habit out of ogling strangers. He would deserve a second look anywhere, because it's so rare for _anyone_ in the kingdom to live long enough to have white hair at their temples. "What are you doing _swimming_ in this weather? Your wits must be more degraded than I'd originally assessed."

The man's glare intensifies. "Only wits degraded out here's the jerkbag fisherman who left his damn net out where anyone could get tangled in it."

"Really, you must don your tunic at once...but what does a net have to do with anything?" she asks, puzzled. 

"It's got everything to do with anything 'cause I'm the one who got tangled in there. Look, lady, you got a knife?"

She opens her mouth to insist that he put some sort of clothing on, but the words fail to emerge when she sees something totally impossible. Patricia gawks in amazed disbelief at the fisherman's net in question, because there is a _tail_ caught in it and as her eyes follow the shimmering coils to their owner...well. "Oh, _my_." It has to be a trick; perhaps when she was refilling her water pouch, she hadn't tested the water properly and is now suffering the effects of some type of hallucinogen. Yes, that's probably what has happened. "Could you...step out of the water?" Patricia asks finally. "My mind seems insistent upon the belief that you have a _tail_."

The man sighs and tosses the rock back onto the shore, planting his hands on the soil and lifting himself up and out of the water. Just as Patricia had thought she'd seen, the lower half of his body is that of a very large fish. "That's 'cause I do," he says, reaching out for a piece of driftwood and using it to lever himself back into the water. "I could sure use that knife right about now."

She's heard about merpeople - because, really, who hasn't - but this is the first time she's ever actually _met_ one. Before now, they were firmly shunted into the realm of impossibility...which, given that their kingdom is ruled by a mare who is made of diamonds, is saying something. "This is _fascinating_ ," Patricia breathes. "You really, truly _exist_."

"Sure looks like it, lady, and right now I'm existin' in a goddamned _net_. You gonna help me or what."

She ignores him, moving even closer so that she can reach out and stroke one of the rippling coils of his tail - in illuminated manuscripts, most artists depict a mermaid with a tail that is approximately the size of a human's legs. His tail is much longer, and it's small wonder that he's run afoul of a fisherman's net. Patricia trails her fingers across the armored scales, interested that no slime - 

"Quit it," the merman growls, prodding her with his driftwood club. "You go up to just anyone and start pettin' 'em like they're an animal?"

Patricia looks at him. "Technically, you are part fish."

"Technically, you're outta your entire damn _mind_! I ain't a fish!"

"Well, mermaids are half-"

"I look like a _maid_ to you?" he roars at her.

"Merman, then."

"Merman? _Mer_ man? I ain't no _merman_ , neither! I'm a triton, you fool woman! Read a book now an' again... _dang_."

Patricia glares at him for this insult, and has a mind to leave him right where he is. "If the rest of your aquatic population is half as charming as you, it's no wonder you've been left out of written history - who would want to remember such a race of irascible water-bound louts?"

They enter into a silent battle of irritated facial expressions, and she wins because the man starts to laugh. Merman. No, _triton_.

Whatever.

"That's some scowl - you practice that in front of the mirror 'fore you leave in the mornin'?"

"I find that the best defense is a good, antisocial glare. Now," Patricia says, eyeing his tail, "Who are you and are there any more of you?"

The triton's eyes narrow. "I ain't gotta tell you that, 'specially since you ain't even helped me. How do I know you won't just go off callin' more humans to come and kill me?"

"Does that happen often?"

"Wouldn't be alive right now if it happened to _me_ , now would I. I hear plenty of ta- _stories_ 'bout what happens when we're caught."

Patricia looks at him carefully, thinking hard. "So if I _help_ you, you'll answer my questions."

"I'll give you answers, sure," he agrees. "Now, about that _knife_..."

She shrugs and moves her pack farther from the shoreline so that it won't get wet, then digs through it to find her third-best knife. "It will be helpful if I can see the entirety of the net so that I can determine which knots to sever."

The empty swath of net is immediately tossed up onto the shore, and the triton struggles to pull himself up - without thinking, Patricia reaches out to help. Their hands touch and he stops immediately, looking at her oddly before returning to his labor. "It's too heavy, where it's caught on my tail," he says. "You gotta be careful."

Patricia grits her teeth and wades into the water with the knife, deciding that she'll just have to do this by feel because she's not about to hand over her blade to a strange man. "Please let me know if I cut you."

"Oh, you're gonna be the first to know," he assures her warily, enduring a few clumsy passes of the knife before he puts his hands over hers and guides them beneath the water. "Here - don't press down or nothin'; just keep a firm grip." His fingers tighten around hers, and she finds herself unaccountably flustered by how close the triton is to her - of course he has to be _close_ if he's guiding her hands. She is certainly intelligent enough not to be led astray by a strange man...not that she sees a visible sex organ at all, which might mean that he doesn't even have one. If she can't see it - because he is obviously not wearing clothing - then where is it? "Let's both just pretend you _didn't_ say that out loud," he announces. "You women are somethin' else, that's for damn sure."

"I am interested for purely scientific-"

He wrests the knife away from her with a twist of his wrist and has the blade beneath her chin faster than she can blink. "You're a friggin' _alchemist_."

"Well, _yes_."

"I got nothin' more to say to you," he breathes furiously. "How many more you got hidin' around here? Who told you I was here? They payin' you?"

Patricia sighs impatiently. "Don't be ridiculous. Does it _look_ as if I'm the type of person to ally myself with poachers?" The triton makes an uncomplimentary remark about it seeming as though she's so disagreeable, even her own parents wouldn't want to be her allies, so she's forced to tell him about her troubles with the Alchemist Guild. "I am studying eridium and its various uses but the guild seems to think that, since I am a woman, they have no obligation to accept my entry into their midst."

The knife is slowly lowered from her throat. "So you ain't with nobody."

"I believe that has already been established," Patricia snaps. "My secondary area of study is that of the care of magical creatures."

"There you go again, thinkin' we're pets! 'Care of magical creatures,' my dorsal _fin_ ," he scoffs, releasing her entirely and going back to sawing through the net. "You got a lot to learn, woman."

She sits down, intending to fire a few more questions at him, but forgets that she's still standing in the water. Her trousers are immediately soaked, and Patricia lunges for the shore with a loud squawking noise that makes her companion start laughing so hard he nearly drops her knife. "That is not amusing in the slightest - stop laughing at once," she scolds him.

The triton finishes slicing through the net, still highly amused at her misfortune. "Looked pretty damn funny to _me_. All right, you get three questions or 'til I get bored so you better get to it," he says suddenly, shaking off the remains of the net and stretching the magnificent length of his tail much as she'd stretched her own limbs when she'd woken up that morning. Fascinating.

Patricia can't seem to pull her gaze from it. "It's very long, isn't it?" she breathes admiringly.

"Yep. There goes question numero uno," he says.

"What? That isn't fair," Patricia complains.

The triton shrugs. "I ain't made the rules, lady."

She nibbles at her lower lip in concentration, unaware of the way his eyes settle on her mouth. "Let me think a moment...okay, is there any way you could be persuaded to let me question you further?"

"Oh, I'd say so," he says. The triton's smile widens as she realizes that she hasn't specifically requested to know _how_. "Last question, sweetheart. Best make it a good one."

Patricia is so irritated, she feels like she could scream. "Must you insist upon labeling me with such derogatory intent? I simply do _not_ understand why..." she trails off in dawning horror that she's been so easily manipulated into losing her final question. " _No_! I meant that rhetorically!"

The triton wriggles his fingers at her mockingly. "Thanks for the help, _sweetheart_. Be seein' ya." He pushes back from the shore and disappears beneath the surface with a flick of that impossibly long tail, which sends water cascading over her head.

This time Patricia really _does_ scream and, grabbing the heaviest-looking pottery shard from the nearby rubble, heaves it into the water with the hopes that it will brain the sexist oaf on its way down.


	2. Quid pro quo, Patricia.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia meets Cleric Zed, who bears a striking resemblance to her grumpy acquaintance from the Unassuming Docks. Rated R for Ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have you ever been pushing something really heavy uphill and then, when it got to the top, it got away from you and went crashing down the other side...leaving a swath of destruction in its wake? This chapter is just like that!!!

She's still thinking about the bafflingly rude hybrid days later because not only does he still have her third-best knife, but he's also the reason why her goggles are at the bottom of the Unassuming Docks. Patricia takes one last look over her shoulder as she checks to make sure her pack is securely fastened, then slides her arms through the straps and heads back home. While her trip had ultimately proved a success, she's beginning to wish she hadn't come at all because now she knows that a creature seen only in myth lives in the same kingdom as she does. If he does, then what _other_ so-called 'pixie tales' are real as well?

An actual, live _triton_. A once-in-a-lifetime discovery, made by her...but she has absolutely no proof that he really exists. If she could prove it, the Alchemist's Guild would _have_ to let her in. At this point, Patricia isn't entirely sure she even _wants_ membership to an exclusive club full of overbearing misogynists. Well, she _does_ want to join but mainly just to prove that she can do so; the thought of attending regular gatherings and _socializing_ with them makes her physically ill. No, she'd probably join and then promptly quit once it's clear to all that she has the same rights and privileges as men who have no more imagination than a pile of week-old Golem dung.

Her journey home seems quicker than the trip away from it, most likely because she'd actually been enjoying the prospect of getting away. Ellie, one of the very few people she can stand, greets her cheerfully. "Heya, cutie - let's see a smile on that face, now!"

"That would imply that I am enjoying myself, which would be a lie." Patricia sighs and takes a seat beside her friend. "I despise having to put on a 'brave face' just to make others comfortable."

"Fake it 'til you make it, baby! Oh, and speakin' of _makin' it_ \- that new soldier Roland brought by? Yep, gonna get me some of that. You meet anyone cute 'nuff to wrassle when you was...where'd you go, again? The mines? One time I met me a dwarf from there and honey, they might be short but plenty big where it counts!"

"I believe I just vomited in my mouth a little."

"I'm just _sayin'_."

Patricia shakes her head in disgust, which makes Ellie laugh again. "I went to the Unassuming Docks and while I _did_ meet a reasonably well-made male, there was no... _wrassling_ and I doubt that there could ever be."

Ellie's eyes light up. "Oooh, girl, you better spill them beans! Why're you sayin' you can't getcha some from this mystery man?"

"First of all, he's terribly bad-mannered. Secondly, he is a merman."

Her friend hoots with laughter and slugs her in the shoulder with enough affectionate force to knock Patricia over. "Oh, you sure got me that time, Patty! A _merman!_ You are too funny, girl."

"So I have been told." Patricia says goodbye to Ellie and goes to unpack her things, walking quickly past Moxxi's Grog and Girls before anyone inside can call out to her - the drunken fools always seem to think she's a suitable candidate for sexual harassment. 

Sir Roland greets her as they pass each other on one of the rope bridges. "Hey, girl. Nice to see your fine self made it back okay."

"Thank you," she says gravely as he continues past without presuming to stop and speak with her further. The White Knight has always been unfailingly courteous as well as being accepting of her social limitations, which is something she appreciates.

Roland’s voice floats back to her in farewell. "Right on, dawg.”

Patricia walks past the trio of magical boxes that dispense healing potions, ammunition, and protective spells. There are a few people gathered around them discussing the merits of a 'blue' grade spell as opposed to a 'white,' as if they don't know by now that the simplest spells can be the most powerful if used wisely. She shakes her head in dismay at their ignorance (all the kids are searching for orange grade spells these days) and glances at the boxes - the stained glass, at least, is astonishingly well made. Many times before, Patricia has stopped to admire it and wonder what level of spell has been used to protect the glass from a well-placed rock. 

As her eyes slide across the inlaid colored glass, she stops to walk directly in front of Cleric Zed's Health Emporium. It almost looks as though the cleric has the exact same streaks of white at his temples as her recent acquaintance, the surly triton of the Docks. Patricia shakes her head in annoyance and continues on to her house - now she's seeing the impossible creature in every face she looks at.

She finds refuge in her research, and quite happily spends the remainder of the day conducting experiments on the raw chunks of eridium she'd dug up during her journey. The Dahl Brotherhood should consider themselves lucky to have one such as her even express the slightest _interest_ in joining them. Patricia sighs irritably as she readies herself for bed, knowing that her problems would come to an abrupt end if she could only find the triton and convince him to accompany her to the next Guild conclave.

In the morning, she gathers her supplies for another short trip as far from Flamerock Refuge as her feet will take her during the span of a day. Despite the fact that she's just returned, Patricia wants nothing more than to leave again. She's pulling her cloak around her shoulders when she hears a commotion that will almost certainly bring about the death of her travel plans...and she's proved right because one of the town's inhabitants, a loudmouth known by the unwieldy name of Lord Mister Torgue High Five Flexington, has been playing with explosives again. This time, the main bridge has paid the price of existing within a five-mile radius of the great lummox - no one in Flamerock Refuge will ever forget the time he paid the newest soldiers of fortune to destroy the village's scouting blimps.

Patricia glares in Lord Flexington's general direction as the man is escorted back into the stocks - in her opinion, they should simply let him live there. Thanks to him, it looks as though she's trapped until someone fixes the bridge; this could be a while, since most of Flamerock Refuge's inhabitants are too busy either getting drunk and/or pounding on random doors at all hours. She goes out to see if anyone's even remotely interested in fixing it and paces back and forth for a while as if she can simply _will_ someone to come. There's another bridge, but she's never liked using it...yet if Patricia doesn't, she'll be a virtual prisoner.

She goes back inside and locks the door behind her, taking several deep breaths before stealing a glance out the window at the aforementioned bridge. It's rickety, old, and immensely unsafe. If she walks across it, someone is _sure_ to cross from the other direction at the same time. That someone might even talk to her. What if Patricia can't stop herself from recoiling, thus ensuring that she plummets to her death? She doesn't want that, but she _also_ doesn't want to feel trapped inside her own home. After some serious thinking, Patricia decides that she has to risk it. Rather than leaving it for the Goddess to decide, she's going to take matters into her own hands and bring insurance. Most people tend to give dead things a wide berth, so the solution to her problem lies in nothing less than a rotting corpse...yet where to find one?

The answer is found in the midden heaps, of course, and Patricia carefully covers her nose and mouth with a length of cloth before fishing out the decomposing remains of a Mimic. She binds it to a broken piece of wood and goes to scrub her hands repeatedly, then gathers her things together once more. Patricia rips pieces from an old cloak and winds the cloth around her hands, figuring she can simply discard it once she's safely across the dreaded bridge since there is no reliable place for her to wash her hands. The strips covering her nose and mouth go into place even tighter than before to fully block the stench, Patricia settles her pack upon her shoulders, and she lifts the dead creature.

Other people certainly do their best to give her a wide berth, which is so satisfying she starts thinking of making this a regular occurrence. Bits of Mimic start dropping off, so Patricia angles the decaying beast off to the side so that she doesn't step in anything unpleasant, and the bridge is miraculously clear of pedestrians as she comes to it. She crosses at her leisure, then has to find a safe place to dispose of her rather fragrant burden. Patricia heads towards the far edge of town where a few airships have been tethered, available for hire. Unbelievably, the young boy in charge of rental operations has the nerve to tell her that all but one airship has been contracted...and the remaining ship is waiting on an 'important' visitor. "This is an outrage! Do you mean to tell me that, even with my obvious willingness to pay, I will be forced to return to the village?" She says angrily.

The boy shifts from foot to foot. "Sorry, miss, I ain't made the rules. Cleric Zed's always got first choice since he's the healer-"

"Cleric _Zed?_ " Patricia frowns thoughtfully. Perhaps she can convince the man to share traveling space; surely one man doesn't need an entire airship to himself. The thought of this level of human interaction makes her gorge rise. She can think of nothing less distasteful than waiting around to beg a perfect stranger to allow her passage, but Patricia also can't stomach another trip through the secret paths so soon after her last voyage. "I shall wait here and speak with him."

"If ya like," the boy says, still eyeing her nervously. 

She paces back and forth until the boy alerts her to the cleric's approach. Patricia charges towards the man with her head held high, prepared to do battle. "Now, listen here..." she trails off as their eyes meet, and she realizes whom she's standing in front of. " _You?_ "

Cleric Zed looks down at her. "What about me? You need healin'?"

Patricia stares in disbelief. "But...you have legs."

"That's right, miss, I got two of 'em. Now, if you don't need nothin' I best be on my way." He steps around her and nods to the boy, who begins to unwind the rope holding the blimp in its moorings.

"Wait-" she follows the cleric to the rail of the blimp. "I must insist that you allow me to accompany you."

"Really, now." Zed rearranges his robes carefully after stepping aboard. "I got a schedule to keep, and I ain't in the habit of ruinin' it for anyone who don't even got the decency to introduce themselves an' _ask politely_ if they want somethin' from me."

Patricia gnaws on the inside of her cheek, tasting blood as she stares at him. "You are saying that if I ask you, you will allow me aboard."

"I'm sayin' I'll _think_ about it," he corrects, reaching up to adjust the white mask covering the lower part of his face. "You'd best talk quick as ya can, miss."

The blimp is indeed drifting further away from the dock, so she's forced to swallow her pride or be left behind. "My...my name is Patricia Tannis. I really must leave Flamerock Refuge at once, and would like to- to _share_ your method of transportation," she says.

Cleric Zed cups a hand behind his ear. "There's a word I ain't hearin.'"

The gap is steadily widening and Patricia breathes faster at the sight of it. She can't miss this, she _can't_ be left behind here! "I don't know what you want me to say," she admits.

"You _don't?_ Well, fancy that."

"Do you require sexual favors in return for the conveyance?" she demands, feeling just desperate enough to agree to almost anything at this point. A small voice in the back of her head is telling her to calm down, that a few hours' wait won't _really_ hurt her, but the rising panic doesn't allow her the luxury of listening.

The cleric's eyes widen in shock. " _What the-?_ N-no, I just meant...hot _damn_ , I just wanted you to say 'please,'" he splutters.

"Oh." Patricia's shoulders slump as the blimp drifts too far away for her to possibly jump aboard. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing."

She's just turning away when the coil of rope smacks against the side of her face. "All right, c'mon." Hardly daring to believe her luck, Patricia pulls with all her strength and wraps the end of it around the railing. The blimp drifts back and she's about to step aboard when he curls his fingers around his ear again. "Well?"

"Please."

"Well, Miss Tannis, welcome aboard." Zed reaches out to take her hand and help her cross the gap. Patricia has too much momentum built up to check herself, and they land in a heap on the deck. She discovers that she's sprawled across his chest like a common doxy, and that he's staring right at her. Of course he would _stare_ , she scolds herself. She's just knocked him over and they're now in an extremely indelicate position. Anyone would stare. "Uh...you _do_ know that I ain't takin' you up on that offer, right? It's kinda important that ya know that," he says, extricating himself from beneath her.

"The offer? What offer?" Patricia demands, pulling away and climbing to her feet.

Cleric Zed stands up and spends an inordinate amount of time rearranging his robes. "Y'know, the, uh, the sex thing. I don't...I don't do that."

"You do not have sex?" she asks, whipping back around to look at him. "Are all clerics celibate?"

"What is _wrong_ with you, woman? Ya don't just _ask_ someone that soon's you meet 'em!" Zed runs his fingers over the strings holding the mask on, glaring at her.

The sight of his narrowed eyes and dark eyebrows drawn together like that reminds her anew of the triton. "May I see your bare legs, please?" Maybe he's somehow attached sandals to his fins, and doubled up his tail - with those robes, it's really anyone's guess as to what's beneath them.

"You sure as hell may _not_ ," the cleric huffs. "I take pity on you, an' _this_ how you repay me? You just take yourself on over there by the damned rail an' _stay there_. Friggin' _women_."

"It _is_ you," Patricia crows triumphantly. "I am unsure how you managed to secure two legs and the motor skills to use them, but I would know that surly sexism anywhere!"

"Now listen here, lady-" 

"The angrier you become, the more you betray your true nature."

Cleric Zed folds his arms across his chest. "I guess now's right about the time you're gonna tell me all about this 'true nature' of mine."

"Yes. You are a fish."

He stares at her for a moment, then looks around as if to search for nonexistent witnesses. "I shoulda left you cryin' like a newborn baby on the airship dock. Sit your crazy ass by that rail an' leave me alone."

Patricia is inclined to tell him exactly what he can do with her ass, but decides against it and goes to sit down. At least this way, she'll have more opportunities to study him from afar and he'll eventually betray himself.

Zed goes back to the navigation controls, eyeing her occasionally as if to make sure she doesn't pounce on him and lift up his robes. She bides her time, waiting until he's finally relaxed to begin questioning him again. "Tell me, do you enjoy swimming?"

He groans. "Not this again - give it a dang rest, will ya?"

"I am simply attempting to make conversation."

"Well, attempt to make silence - it sounds a whole lot better." He turns his back on her, leaving Patricia to gaze at his shoulders and imagine how they might look without the folds of white cloth draped over them. She moves her eyes down to his posterior, which promises to be quite well-shaped beneath the concealing robes, and it's then that Zed looks over his shoulder at her. "Hey! What're you-" His face goes an impressive shade of red when he realizes where she's looking. 

Patricia lifts her eyes to his. "It boggles the mind that-"

"I don't give a damn 'bout what's bogglin' whatever else! Quit starin' at my behind. That's _rude_."

She thinks it incredibly interesting that a man of his advanced years would find the merest hint of sexual objectification so off-putting - he should, rather, be grateful that anyone would even wish to view his bare backside. Cleric Zed finds this point of view even more inflammatory, judging from the look on his face...Patricia isn't that well-versed in reading nonverbal signals, but the red face and bulging eyeballs seem to coincide with the physical manifestation of indignation. The only thing missing is the act of eyebrows being drawn together- no, there it is now. Figuring that she might as well continue her earlier line of questioning because it seems as though the cleric's head might truly _explode_ (a phenomenon which she has never before been fortunate enough to witness, so this instance may prove quite educational). "I am afraid I misspoke earlier when referring to you as a fish when you are, in fact, a _merman_."

Cleric Zed now looks as though the cranial explosion might occur at any moment. "I ain't no goddamned _merman_ , I'm a tri-"

"...and I've caught you."

"-umphantly returnin' _physician_ who's had just about enough of your weird ass slingin' nonsense in every direction," Zed finishes.

"Nice try."

"Get outta my damn _face_ ," he bellows at her. "Oughta just heave ya over the side an' do the kingdom a favor!"

Patricia gazes at him intently. "Your behavior doesn't seem like the type a physician, however triumphant, would usually publicly exhibit."

He narrows his eyes at her. "I s'pose you'd know all about physicians, bein' one yourself. Look, lady, just...just stop talkin' to me. We got a ways 'fore we reach the Forest and you are just playin' havoc with my blood pressure - I'd rather not have a coronary 'cause you keep talkin' nonsense."

She sighs. "Very well. I suppose I _could_ possibly be mistaken."

"See? There ya go," Cleric Zed says encouragingly.

“However, I sincerely doubt it.”

He rubs at the bridge of his nose. “What is it gonna _take_ for you t’get this foolishness outta that crazy head of yours?”

Patricia claps her hands together delightedly. _Finally._ “It’s very simple, really. You can disrobe and allow me to view your nude body.”

Zed immediately begins to look around. “This is one’a them newfangled stage illusions, ain’t it? Marcus put you up to this?” When she asks what illusions have to do with anything, he explains while still craning his neck and searching for something. “I wasn’t born yesterday, lady, I know all about them things where people get tricked into doin’ embarrassin’ stuff so’s other people can laugh at ‘em.”

“No one is going to laugh at anything,” Patricia says, staring at him apprehensively. The man is clearly unhinged. “I simply wish to ascertain whether or not you are the merman in question.”

“There ain’t _no such thing_ as merfolk. You drunk or somethin’?”

Patricia assures him that she is nothing of the kind. “I simply wish-”

“I’ll tell you what the hell _I_ simply wish. I simply wish I’d never even seen your face,” he howls at her. Men can be so emotional, she thinks to herself distastefully.

“Remove your robes, and you’ll never have a reason _to_ see my face,” she offers sensibly.

The cleric folds his arms across his chest. “You’re tellin’ me that’s all it’s gonna take. Just drop my drawers for you an’ you’ll leave me alone, for good.”

“Yes.”

“I mean, ya really _will_ stay away from me?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“How can I tell you mean it, though?” he counters. “Anyone could just _say_ they’re gonna git, but then come back around whenever they want. You ready to agree to a blood pact ‘bout it?”

Patricia thinks about it. “I do not know of any reason why I wouldn’t be, though it might prove cumbersome if I were in pressing need of medical assistance.”

“Eh, fair enough. You really do need some help an’ I’m close by, I’ll void the spell. Sound good?”

“The terms certainly sound acceptable,” she admits.

“Fine, then. You go first.”

Patricia blinks in startlement. “I beg your pardon?” 

“If I gotta get outta my kit for a strange woman, no matter how cute you are, I reckon you’d better make it worth my while. Only fair, don’tcha think? Show me yours, an’ I’ll show you mine – ain’t that how the sayin’ goes?” He props a hip against the airship controls and sweeps his arm outwards in invitation. “Ladies first.”

“This was _not_ part of the deal,” she says.

“Well, looks like it is now. How do I know you won’t just go off an’ tell anyone I got outta my robes for you? They might think I’m one’a them that harass those that ain’t interested, you get my meanin’? This here’s my insurance, lady, so take it or leave it. You don’t wanna strip same as me, deal’s off an’ I go complain to Sir Roland ‘bout you makin’ all kinds of _improper advances_.” 

Patricia can feel her throat begin to close up at the thought of removing her clothes in front of this man. Even though she’d fully expected him to claim sexual liberties in return, and he’d refused, she doesn’t feel comfortable doing this. Yet she _had_ expected him to do the same, Patricia reasons with herself. Surely she can muster the courage for something _he_ will be doing – as he’d said, it _is_ only fair. “Very well.” She coughs in an attempt to clear her throat, and lifts her hands to the hem of her shirt.

Zed’s eyes shift to the railing, only occasionally darting back to glance at her before looking away again. For a man who had just pressed her to undress before him, he doesn’t seem that interested in really _watching_. Perhaps he prefers males, though his face _does_ redden whenever his gaze connects with her ever-increasing display of bare skin. When she’s finally down to her underclothes, Patricia takes a deep breath and discards them. “There. I believe that it is now _your_ turn, Cleric Zed.”

He glances back at her and she fully expects him to look away immediately, but this time his eyes stay glued to her form as if he can’t quite help himself. “Yeah, I…I guess it is,” he murmurs. Zed makes no move to remove his own clothing.

“If you do not wish to become known as a hopeless pervert, Zed, I suggest you fulfill your earlier pledge,” Patricia says sharply.

Zed finally drags his eyes away from her and sucks his breath in noisily. “Yeah. Yeah, sure. Uh. Sorry.”

Patricia shifts from foot to foot and curls her bare toes against the rough, dirty wood of the airship’s deck. She hooks a piece of her clothing with her big toe and draws it closer so that she can stand on top of it, watching as Zed kicks off his sandals and reaches beneath the concealing robes to loosen his pants. His feet certainly seem human enough, she observes, and so do the bottoms of his legs from what she can see of them. He quickly strips off the rest of his robes as if to get this ordeal over with as soon as possible, and Patricia can understand the feeling – she longs to dive back into her clothes.

When the last of the voluminous white clothing slumps to the deck and the cleric steps out of it, it is now _Patricia_ who has a difficult time tearing her eyes away. This is ridiculous because of course she’s seen myriad illustrations of nude males, and of _course_ she has full license to look as long as she’d like. Zed is surprisingly well-built for a man of his years, though there is a disappointing lack of scales. Patricia runs her eyes up his legs, pausing longer than is strictly polite to admire his genitalia, then focuses with vague distaste at the amount of hair on that powerful chest. The triton hadn’t sported _any_ body hair apart from what had been on his head. “Well?” he demands, staring intently at something just beyond her left ear. “You satisfied yet?”

Patricia looks up into his face, lifting a hand to her collarbone in shock when she realizes that he’s discarded the mask. Cleric Zed might not have the matching body, but the face is exactly the same. “Yes, but-”

“No ‘buts’ - we’re done here.” He bends to pull up his pants, turning away from her to continue dressing, and Patricia surfaces enough from her disappointment to realize she’d been right all along – his backside _is_ quite nice. She scrambles into her own clothing and kneels on the deck while she laces up her boots, still watching him. “We got an hour or so ‘fore we reach the Forest, so you’d best stay over there ‘til I’m ready with that spell. We agreed on it, an’ you’d better keep your word like you promised,” Zed warns her. He turns back as he’s tying the mask around his nose and mouth.

“You look exactly the same as-”

“We’re _done_. Sit your ass _down._ ”

She’d been so _sure_. Patricia lowers her head in defeat, and slowly sits down in the indicated area. To take her mind off of the bitterness at having been so severely mistaken, she tries to think which individuals she knows off who actually know how to work blood magic. She supposes it _does_ make sense that a cleric would be a blood mage because of its healing benefits, yet the only other people with this particular skill were all devout followers of the Handsome Sorcerer. When she ventures to ask him about this, Zed is openly disgusted at the parallel she’s drawn.

He reaches into his bag and draws out what looks like a small incense burner as well as a tinder box. “C’mere,” Zed says gruffly. “Sit down an’ hold your hand out. Don’t matter which one.” He lights a small fire, cupping his hand around it to keep it from being blown out.

Patricia extends her left hand over the oddly-shaped bowl he’s placed atop the burner. It looks like bone. “You bear a remarkable resemblance to the sea creature I met,” she says quickly.

“Well, you know what they say – everybody’s got a twin somewhere,” Zed comments, lifting his own hand to press his fingers against hers. He brings a sharp two-pronged implement up to pierce the tops of their thumbs at the same time. Patricia watches the blood well up, and tastes the bitterness of her defeat once again as he turns their hands so that the blood commingles and drops into the bowl. He chants…something; she can’t make out the words as if they’re being deliberately distorted so that she cannot understand. Zed dips a finger into the bowl and presses a bloody print onto the back of her proffered hand. “It’ll start workin’ soon as you start walkin’ away,” he says calmly.

“How does it work, precisely?”

“Move back a few steps an’ see for yourself.”

Patricia sighs and pushes to her feet, stepping backwards. She doesn’t feel anything but when she takes another step away, her marked hand tingles. Glancing down, she sees the cleric’s fingerprint actually _sinking_ into her skin. “Fascinating,” she murmurs. “How did you-” the rest of her question is cut short by the sudden pressure that prevents her from moving forward.

He surveys her with all outward signs of satisfaction. “ _Nice_.”

She doesn’t like this at all, even having known it was coming. “I must protest.”

“You can protest all you want…you just can’t get nowhere near me ‘less I decide you can. Stop’s comin’ up fast, so you’d best get ready to jump. I ain’t gettin’ out just yet so’s you don’t try to follow. Wouldn’t recommend tellin’ no one about this, neither, ‘cause there ain’t a soul that’ll believe ya,” Zed tells her, pulling down his mask so that she can see the strange smile on his face. She might be woefully unskilled at reading body language, but something isn’t quite right here. “Get your pack, an’ get on out.” He gets up and moves to the controls, steering the airship towards one of the treetop docks.

Patricia glares at him and gathers her things, bracing herself by the open section of the railing as the airship glides towards the docks. She steps out and turns to deliver a scathing review of his company when Zed tosses a wrapped bundle at her feet, which bursts open at the force of its landing. “What…?”

There, presumed lost and gone forever, are her goggles and third-best knife. Patricia’s eyes widen as she looks back up to meet the triumphant gaze of the very male who’d spent all this time denying his own existence. Cleric Zed wriggles his fingers at her mockingly. “See ya, _sweetheart_.” The airship slides past, and so does her chance to find out just how a triton can walk on land.

Unbelievable.


	3. So there I was, minding my own business.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold: Zed Blanco, walking disaster. He's kind of an asshole with a heart of gold...it's probably the cheap gold plated stuff, though.
> 
> **WARNING: rating has gone from Teen to Mature**

Zed takes in her goggle-eyed stare with a great deal of amusement and almost wishes he could stick around to look some more, but he really _does_ have things to do and patients to see. He laughs, steering the airship towards the secondary set of docks where travelers tended to gather in hopes of a ship going back towards Flamerock Refuge. Zed wouldn’t mind heading back that way himself, as long as he was sure that he wouldn’t encounter _her_ there – his shop has been closed for quite some time, but he still owns the place and it’s as good a spot as any to lay his head whenever he’s around. 

He shakes his head regretfully at the thought of having a rest – he could definitely use one because his legs have started aching again, but he really doesn’t have the time. It’s not as if he isn’t used to it by now, but the first day in human form is always the hardest. Zed guides the airship in and tosses the ropes to the boy waiting there. “Doin’ okay, Davis?”

“I ‘ope so, sir! Liza’d have me head if I weren’t, innit! Hafta steak-and-kidney pie fly, I would.”

Zed pretends he understood all of that and nods. “You tell that sister of yours to keep track of her own dang head – there’s trouble in the next kingdom over an’ it’s got her name written all over it. Don’t nobody want Scavs from Elpis comin’ in for a look around ‘cause Liza swiped…what d’they use over there again? Moonstone?”

“If she nicked anythin’ I’m sure she earned it,” Davis says, loyal to a fault.

“I ain’t sayin’ she didn’t… just tell her to watch it.” He claps the boy on the shoulder and takes his leave, trusting that the message will get through. 

Zed’s first stop is down past the first bridge where a family of trolls have moved in – there’s always some kind of drama happening whenever he comes by, and this time is no different. One of the young ones is convinced that they’re dying because a ‘friend of a friend’ told them that eating gravel mixed with ale was a cure-all for stomach ailments, but then realized that they’d meant to say that the gravel should have been mixed with _water_ , instead. Zed doesn’t bother to point out that neither option is good for anyone’s stomach, because this particular clan has to be made up of the biggest hypochondriacs he’s ever seen. They’re constantly convinced that they’re about to die the second they get so much as a splinter from the bridge they live beneath, and spend more time worrying about it than harassing those who just want to walk over the bridge. “Next time you got a stomachache, just lie down an’ rest ‘stead of shovelin’ weird stuff in your mouth,” he suggests, plucking a placebo needle from his bag and injecting the troll youngster with it. 

“Sure thing, Cleric Zed. Like everyone knows, good health is all about eating well and getting good exercise,” his patient tells him. “Aubrey the Treant was by the other day and reminded us about _that_.”

Zed’s fixed with a hopeful gaze, but he shakes his head. “No dice, kid – it’s common knowledge she don’t move around, but it ain’t somethin’ I feel strongly enough about to argue with and you kinda worked that in too obviously. It was still connected to what you was sayin,’ you get me?”

“Aw.”

“Well, hey now – I bet if you asked your momma ‘bout it, she’d tell ya that it took her a couple tries to get her trollin’ down pat. You’ll get it eventually, kid, don’t worry.”

The young troll brightens, if you could even suggest that something that ugly _could_ brighten in the first place; that face could curdle milk still in the cow. The clan’s matriarch pays his fee and attempts to draw him into conversation, which he politely declines because he’s crossed wits with her before and come out the worse for it – the older ones just seem to have a gift for irritating the life right out of him, but that’s trolls for you. Zed tries not to take it personally.

He stops at several huts in the village where the Duke of Orc had reigned supreme just a year earlier, and pays a visit to the huge tree that one of the mercenaries had planted. Apparently it’s one of Aubrey’s offshoots, but Zed wouldn’t have been able to tell because it lacks that certain surliness which is a hallmark of the Treant’s personality. There’s no one around to see him, so he doesn’t bother with a syringe of colored saline this time. Zed places his hands on the trunk and sends his healing magic inwards to the tree’s life source, helping heal a week-old gash on one of the lower branches – it looks like one of the village’s new inhabitants had tried to take wood for a fire.

The tree thanks him for his service. Not in so many words, of course, but Zed can feel its gratitude as a kind of warmth...like the feeling of sun on the back of his neck in winter. He pats the trunk in farewell and steps back, knowing that anyone watching would simply see an old man leaning against a tree for balance.

He’s continuing on his rounds when he comes across one of his friends from the neighboring kingdom threatening a fruit peddler. “…Nina? That really you?” Zed asks, hardly daring to believe his own eyes because while it certainly _looks_ like her, she has legs just like _he_ does.

The big woman turns, still holding a fistful of the hapless peddler’s tunic, and stares at him for a moment before recognizing him. “Look who is it! Zed!” Nina drops the peddler and seizes Zed in a strong embrace, lifting his feet from the ground. “Still with the walking, eh?”

“Looks like I ain’t the only one. Where’d you get ‘em?” Zed wheezes, rubbing his sore midsection when she finally plops him back down. They move off the path and the object of Nina’s wrath beats a speedy retreat. “You ain’t done what I think, didja?”

Nina laughs and slings an arm over his shoulders. “You too _picky_ , my friend. Me? I meet nice, handsome man and now we share soul – I get walk on land, he get Nina in warm bed at night. Is win and win! Maybe you find nice girl to share soul with and she break your curse!”

“Yeah, I don’t think so…’sides, I got me a soul all to myself – inconvenient as hell sometimes, but it’s got its uses.” Zed asks her more about her landbound lover to distract her from this and she gives him the rundown on the apparently flawless Timber Logwood, but he can tell she’s not forgotten about it. “So…how’s that work, again? You get him a stepladder ‘fore things get awkward? Elpisian’s’re tiny folk, ain’t they?”

“He short but big on….personality,” Nina says with a bawdy chuckle, and they both laugh. “Is shame that _we_ not work out. Nina knows you lonely.”

Zed shakes his head as they continue down the path towards the next village, intending on spending time catching up in the local watering hole. “Oh, it ain’t so bad. I seen a lot more of Pandora than I coulda done otherwise. Met a lotta people this way, too, so maybe gettin’ cursed was a good thing.”

“Nina think full soul has problem with the ’meeting’ of people, yes?”

“You are just nosy as hell,” Zed complains.

“Who else Zed talk to? Who else know Zed sometimes man and sometimes triton?” Nina points out.

He knows he should know better because now she really _won’t_ leave him alone about it, but Zed can’t help himself. “There’s someone else who knows, you meddlin’ undine, an’ she-”

“A _ha!_ So there _is_ girl!” Nina’s eyebrows waggle suggestively. “You take her for death roll, yes? I bet she like this.”

Zed can feel his face heating up. “You just go on an’ forget I ever said anything!”

Nina loops her arm through his, giving another hearty laugh. “Is way too late for _that_ , my friend. You tell Nina all about mysterious woman over dinner. How are brothers?” she asks.

This is another thing he doesn’t really enjoy talking about, but he’d rather talk about Ned and Ted than discuss his lack of a sex life. “Both of ‘em went off in different directions,” he tells her. “You know what happens when there ain’t enough mating choices, and none of us wanted _that_. Ned’s gone off an’ got himself some legs over in Jakob’s Cove, but I ain’t heard from him in forever. Then Ted…well, he took up with a Siren.”

Nina’s eyes look like they might pop right out of her skull. “A triton and…?”

“Yeah.” Zed sighs heavily. “She sings the sailors into the water, an’ he’ll drown ‘em. Match made in heaven. You probably know her – white hair, calls down lightning when she’s pissed off.”

“Helga,” Nina grunts. “Ted was always such _nice_ boy.”

“Not really, but he’s always been able to put on an act,” Zed says. “Looks like he fooled _you_ good.”

“Is shame for crying.”

They walk into the tavern and claim a table in the back. Nina orders fish, to Zed’s dismay. “Nina, how could you?”

Nina shrugs. “Is already dead, so why not? Would go waste, otherwise.”

“That’s messed up,” he points out, and asks for the stew. The barmaid makes eyes at him and maneuvers her cleavage right under his nose when she brings a pitcher of ale to their table, which causes Nina to suddenly remember that he hasn’t yet coughed up the information about that pain-in-the-tail alchemist. “It’s nothin.’ She’s…nobody,” he insists.

“Sure she is not. Where you meet this girl? She is pretty, no?”

“Well, I _guess_.” The memory of how he’d tricked her earlier makes the laughter start to build up in his chest again. “Lemme tell you what I did to her today, though, ‘cause it was awesome.”

Nina makes him start from the beginning, which isn’t where Zed would like the conversation to go, but he tells her anyway because it was _still_ pretty good. “I was out in the water by the Docks, an’ there was this net…” he laughs aloud as he recounts the entire ‘three wishes’ scam. “You shoulda seen her face, she was so _mad!_ ” He goes on to recount the scene aboard the airship, and Nina’s laughter booms out to fill the entire tavern as Zed gets to the part about the blood spell.

“…an’ then, when she got out at the dock, _that’s_ when I gave her back the knife and goggles. Friggin’ _priceless_ ,” Zed finishes. He lifts his mug to his lips to take a drink. His friend is eyeing him in a knowing way that’s starting to make him feel uncomfortable. “What?”

She shakes her head with a smile. “Is good thing you so handsome, it not matter that you stupid as dead fish on Nina’s plate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands.

“It mean that you _stupid_. You like this girl, so you tease like rude little boy.” Nina shakes her head at him again and knocks her mug against his. “That not way to make girl like you and have love-times.”

Zed splutters and hides his face in his mug as he takes another drink. “What’re you…I don’t _like_ …you’re just talkin’ nonsense right now.”

“Really,” Nina drawls, leaning back and jerking her chin towards the barmaid. “Girl over there, she will share bed with you because she thinks you handsome and maybe you give her money…yes? You maybe say okay, you maybe pay a little because something better than nothing, but she not want you if she know you not always have two legs.”

“That’s enough,” he warns, getting angry now. “You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout her, _or_ me.”

“Believe me, Nina know plenty.” His friend sighs. “Zed, Nina know _you_. Nina know you want someone who not care about legs _or_ tail. Girl you tease could be this someone when you stop being silly boy and be nice man.”

Zed doesn’t bother insisting that he really _doesn’t_ like Patricia Tannis in any romantic sense, because it’s clear that Nina won’t believe him. “You mean, like _your_ human?” The question comes out a lot meaner than he’d intended, but Nina doesn’t take offense.

“See? You learning already, stupid boy.” Nina leans over the table and pats his cheek, like you’d pat a child who just said something clever, and Zed grinds his teeth in irritation. They talk more about Timber Logwood’s virtues and he heads her off at the pass before she can provide an in-depth account of their sexual encounters. It also seems like her brother Iwan is still hunting for her, which is how she wound up in Elpis in the first place, but Nina figures that he’s expecting her to change her name…so she hasn’t. Zed wishes her luck in evading the bastard, who seems to believe that he has the right to arrange a marriage for her.

They part with an embrace that nearly leaves Zed in need of healing for his bruised ribs because when Nina hugs you, she really goes for it. He’s rubbing his aching sides, and trying not to think of what she’d told him, when the pretty barmaid comes back over. “More ale, m’lord?” she asks, leaning in suggestively to touch his arm. This action serves to plant her bosom in his field of view once more and, Tina help him, he can’t keep from looking.

“I prob’ly had too much already,” he tells her breasts. “Think I’d best settle up and be on my way.”

She smiles at him. “If you need me t’show you the way back to the path…”

Zed looks up at her, taking in those plump lips just right for kissing and the blatant invitation in her eyes, and resolutely pushes away the memory of Nina’s words. “Yeah. I’d like that a whole lot, miss.” He drops three coins too many into the purse on her belt, and she takes his hand to lead him outside. 

They end up around back, with Zed hiking her skirts up and lifting her against the stone wall of the tavern. He fumbles with the ties of his trousers while she kisses him, opening her legs eagerly and moaning against his lips when he pushes inside her. For a few blissful minutes, Zed forgets that she probably wouldn’t want him at all if she knew what he really was. She’s probably faking it all for him, but it’s been awhile and this feels so good he doesn’t really care. Zed presses her against the wall and uses his inborn magic to bring her to climax despite knowing he shouldn’t, but it helps ease his guilt. The barmaid clings to him as he works himself to a finish, making sure to pull out so that his seed splatters harmlessly on the ground instead of within her. There’s no way of knowing whether he’s even capable of fathering a child in human form, but Zed’s determined not to risk it. “I’ve a friend, next village over,” the girl says breathlessly, her arms still around his neck. “Working girl. Says you healed her good as new during a tumble.”

Zed dumps her on the ground immediately, stepping back quickly to fix up his pants. “I ain’t got no idea what you’re goin’ on about, miss.”

The barmaid smiles and takes her time lowering her skirts. “Sure you don’t. She says you was magic. Didn’t want to take your clothes off and all, and kinda quick, but generous just the same.”

“You, uh, you threatenin’ me?” Zed asks cautiously. _Damn_ it!

She laughs and reaches out to touch his mouth. “’Course not, handsome. Just sayin’ that any time you pass through here and wanna make more magic, that's fine by me. I had a nasty case of greenrot but I don’t got that no more, do I? She said you were really nice.”

“You’d better get on. Boss’ll be lookin’ for you,” he tells her, feeling slightly sick. “You probably fell on a needle or something.”

“Right,” the barmaid says. “I’ll be seein’ a friend after work. Maybe I’ll send her your way.” She lifts her hand, palm up, and doesn’t leave until Zed places another three coins there. “Or I might not.”

“You coulda just asked, ‘steada trickin’ me,” Zed murmurs.

She laughs sharply as she pockets his gold. “You wouldn't have.”

“I guess we’ll never know, will we?”

“Guess not,” she says, blowing him a kiss as she leaves.

Zed stares at the space she’s just vacated and then closes his eyes in disbelief at how stupid he’s been. Nina…had been absolutely right. He sighs unhappily and shoulders his bag, heading back towards the path. Not only had the barmaid _not_ wanted him, she’d only used him because he’d been careless enough to ensure she enjoyed it so that she might welcome him back on a return trip. He’s never been the type to whore around much, because a lot of prospective partners had more on their minds than just a hurried tumble where nothing mattered but getting their clothing open just enough. 

Being fully nude as a human male is something he finds so distressing, Zed avoids it at all costs and had barely made it through his ‘bargain’ with the Tannis woman. It’s not the skin he’s _supposed_ to be in, and nothing brings that home quite like rutting with a human partner who has no idea that he’s anything other than what he seems. If the barmaid – he doesn’t even know her _name_ \- had known what he really is, Zed would be truly lucky to escape with nothing less than a lighter purse. She’d sell him out in a minute and he’d wind up just like his father, gutted and stuffed before being shown as a _curiosity_ in a traveling show. 

His feet take him down the slope and out of sight of the village, and then Zed simply starts to run because he has to get as far away from there as fast as he can. He runs until he can't take another step, then stumbles off of the path before his legs give out. Zed collapses at the foot of a huge tree and tries to think of nothing but how tired he is, but he can still feel the lassitude that sinks into him bone deep after indulging in sex. Usually it's a sensation he welcomes and enjoys because for him, sexual encounters with a willing partner are few and far between, but now it just feels like a betrayal. 

Zed can't help but compare the barmaid’s trickery to what he's done – twice now – to Patricia Tannis. It's not the same thing, of course, but now he wonders exactly what her view of it was. He leans back against the tree and closes his eyes, concentrating on the ache in his legs. Maybe he should just go ahead and revoke the spell; she knows what he is and not only doesn't care, but wants to be around him _because_ of it. She also doesn't seem like the type to sell him out, or she would've done so by now. 

Well, she could still do it. She could just be biding her time…yes, that's probably it. Zed's just had a vivid reminder of what can happen around a treacherous woman. You could never tell when they'd betray you.

He stands up slowly and heads back towards the path, realizing that it won't be too long before most of the villages along the path close their gates for the night. Zed had been counting on spending his coin at the inn, not using it as a bribe to keep the barmaid from talking about him. There's still a slight chance that he can reach the next settlement before it's too late, but he's too tired to walk any faster…only one place has an unconditional welcome for him, and that place is where Patricia Tannis lives. The next set of airship docks are still a ways away, but Zed can reach them in an hour or so. 

Zed is exhausted by the time the docks come into sight and holds himself up through sheer strength of will until an available airship stops. The alchemist isn't on board as he thought she probably would be, because apparently it's just that kind of a day. The other passengers recognize him and are appropriately respectful, which he appreciates since that means that they leave him alone. They dock at Flamerock Refuge, and Zed slowly walks down into the center of town where his apothecary is boarded up. He unlocks the door and stumbles inside to feel his way through the darkness to his living quarters, falling asleep almost immediately after his head hits the pillow.

He sleeps late and wakes from a dream of swimming through the shallows of the Sunken Sea. For a few moments he forgets the Handsome Sorcerer’s curse, until Zed glances down to see two legs where his tail should be. He rubs his hands over his face and sits up slowly, hating the feel of the dust-covered floorboards beneath his bare feet when he swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

The sounds of the village draw him over to the window, and Zed gazes down at the people passing below. He can see that Moxxi has a variety of customers, despite the relatively early hour, and some moron’s out trying to melee anyone who’s trying to run past. It looks like Marcus has already been by to refill his ammunition box – Zed wouldn’t mind having a word with the man, but it’s been getting hard to track him down lately. Lord Flexington’s back in the stocks again. Zed’s starting to turn away when a familiar figure appears…and is she actually waving a _corpse_ on the end of a stick?

Zed opens the window and leans out to look. Yes, Patricia Tannis is on the move and _yes_ , she’s carrying around a rotting carcass that’s dropping bits of gore all over the cobblestones. Man, she’s weird. He props his chin up on a fist and watches her go, feeling a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. The alchemist marches along until she reaches a group of townsfolk gossiping around the recently repaired fountain, and Zed laughs aloud to see her wave the corpse around in wide archs while screaming nonsense syllables. The people scatter in horror and she continues on her way – she could have easily just _walked around_ but no, she wanted them to be the ones who moved. He leans out further just so he can keep an eye on her progress, completely forgetting his feelings of self-pity for the moment.

She charges out of sight with her unwieldy burden and Zed sighs in disappointment as he reaches to close the shutters. It’s too late in the morning for him to be able to sneak off for a bath, so he’s going to have to take a bucket down to the community well. That’ll have to do until tonight, when most of the village is sleeping, because he’s not about to pay for one at The Saucy Stallion. The inn is fine enough and their rates aren’t bad, but there’s a communal bathing room; the only thing Zed hates more than being fully nude is being fully nude in front of strangers. Well…just about anyone, really. Patricia Tannis included.

He pauses for a moment to dig his nails into his palms, because thinking about being nude in front of her makes him think about _her_ being nude in front of _him_. “She’s nobody,” Zed recites aloud. “It’s nothin’.” All the same, he has to squeeze his eyes shut and press the heel of his right hand down against his erection so that it will dispel. “She’s _nobody._ ” Zed rearranges his robes carefully so that it won’t look as if he slept in them, and goes out to fill his bucket of water. On the way back Mordecai, who needs a few gashes on his forearms looked at, stops him and Zed promises to get the other man taken care of as soon as he’s finished washing up. 

Once he’s back in his place Zed washes his face, hands, and arms before lowering his pants. The unpleasant reminder of the barmaid makes him grit his teeth and wash himself quickly – too quickly, because he accidentally bumps the pail of water. It drenches his clothing and he swears loudly, aiming a kick at the empty bucket and sending it to ricochet off the closed shutters. He’s forced to strip completely, shivering in the cool mid-morning air as he bends down to mop up the worst of the spill with the clothing that he can’t wear, now.

He rummages through his old things until he comes across a spare set of robes. It’s not really _robes_ though, just an oversized armored apron that comes down to his knees. Zed can’t remember where he’d even gotten it, but it’ll do until he’s had a chance to wash the soggy mess heaped on the floor at his feet. His sandals have escaped damage, but his pants have definitely seen better days. Zed guesses that they’ll do just fine, though, because the only other items of clothing in the stack of crates are a few cloaks. He looks back and impulsively reaches for the long green one, purchased long ago from a peddler who’d flirted with him and insisted that it matched his eyes.

Zed goes back out, intending on seeing to Mordecai – the scratches are probably from that bird of his, and bound to become infected if left too long – but stops mid stride upon noticing that Patricia Tannis is on her way back from wherever she'd gone. He knows he should just continue on his way; there's no reason to attract her attention, but something makes him fold the hood of his cloak over his head and draw it closed. She's getting closer, and Zed moves back just enough so that she won't feel the spell’s boundary. He can hear her talking to herself and she’s still got that carcass with her, which she nearly drops when Zed takes a few steps towards her. Just as he'd thought, the effects of the spell actually _push her forward_.

She stops and looks behind her accusingly. Zed bites his lips to keep from smiling as the alchemist swings her head from side to side, then continues on her way. He lets her get a few steps ahead before closing the distance and “bumping” her again. Zed harasses her for several more minutes before she gets a suspicious look on her face, like she's figured out that it's him, and then he slowly wanders off through the throng of other villagers moving about. 

Mordecai’s scratches are quickly healed and he checks over the other members of the group that call themselves Vault Hunters, whatever that means, because he might as well since he's here. Zed leaves his cloak draped over the back of a chair in the groups headquarters, because he's supposed to check back on Maya who seems to be out on a quest at the moment. He walks over to get something to eat at Moxxi’s Grog and Girls, and fends off the heavy-handed flirtations of the proprietress while making sure none of her girls need anything from him. “Like _healin’_ ,” he clarifies quickly.

Moxxi’s eyes sparkle with the fires of hell itself. “Well Sugar, why don't you come back later and ask ‘em that yourself? I'm sure they wouldn't mind the jab of _your_ big needle, Sweetness.”

“That ain't what I meant, an’ you know it,” Zed snaps.

She gives him a slow once-over. “Something happen to your clothes, Zed? Or did some _one_ happen to them?”

Zed glares at her and slams a coin down on the bar to pay for the food, which makes her laugh as he storms out. Friggin’ _women!_

Eleanor hails him as he's retreating to neutral territory. He can't think of anything he'd want to do less than hang around yet another woman, especially Moxxi's daughter, but he _does_ have a soft spot for this one. “Hey, cutie! How you been?” she calls loudly. 

“Your momma’s gettin’ on my nerves, is how,” Zed sighs. “Ain't your fault though.”

Ellie snorts. “Shoot, she could make a pile of rocks get up an’ move to a better location! You sit right down beside me, you sexy sumbitch.”

Zed laughs, and sits down. “How’s it goin,’ honey? Hope you don't get much chance t’use that armor…thought you had a different kind last I saw ya.”

“Maaaan, I tell you _whut_ ,” Ellie says, “that stuff mighta chafed somethin’ fierce, but it sure looked hot.”

“That it did,” he agrees. “Wouldn't protect you from much though.”

“No kiddin’! If they was aimin’ at a tit I’da been fine…mostly…oh, look who's comin’! You ever meet my friend Patty Tannis?” Ell says and sure enough, here comes _Patty_. “Ain't she cute?”

Yes, she is. “Eh, she's alright,” Zed shrugs.

“She’s single, _you’re_ single…y’all need to be single _together_.”

“Or not. Look, I gotta get on – nice seein’ ya, Ell.”

Ellie stops him from leaving. “Nuh-uh, mister cleric. I gotta introduce y’all.” She flings an arm up and roars so loud that damn near everyone in town turns to look. “Patty! _Pat-tay!_ C’mere!" 

Patricia Tannis turns and gets a good look at him sitting there, and the look on her face is priceless when she realizes she's supposed to walk up to them. Zed should probably void the spell. "Yeah," he says instead. "C'mon over here."

Her lips priss up, her eyes narrow, and _boy_ does she look pissed. "I think I shall decline your generous invitation," she tells them. "I have reached my limit for your juvenile shenanigans, so you might want to try again at a later date." 

She hustles off and Ellie looks at Zed. "What was _that_ all about?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Beats me; I ain't marryin' her."

They say their goodbyes, and Zed hangs around one of the bonfires until he sees Moxxi leaving the tavern. He ducks back in to ask the barmaid, one of the infamous girls from the sign out front, to wrap up some food for him to take back to his place. She gives him a wink and promises to deliver it for the price of a kiss – Casey's one of the sweetest young ladies on Moxxi's payroll and Zed knows that she'd never sell him out, so he promises to give her a few more upon delivery. She smiles and taps his nose with her fingertip. "You got it, baby."

Zed drops a few silver coins on the counter in exchange for the food he's ordered. "Thanks, sweetheart."

She brings it over as he's cleaning the place up, thinking about what he should do about that barmaid. He paid her off, but for how long? Who had been the one to talk to her, and whom else had _that_ girl told? It's especially worrisome because he normally goes without any sexual contact for months at a time; Zed can remember her face just fine, but he travels so much it's impossible for him to narrow down her exact location. He doesn't necessarily enjoy paying for sex, but a regular physical relationship is out of the question and he always tries to make sure his paid partners are genuinely enjoying themselves – he can't believe that _that_ is why he's finally risking discovery.

Casey hints that she'd like something extra, and Zed's body certainly wouldn't mind it either, but the barmaid incident is just too fresh in his mind. She settles on his lap while he kisses her as promised, but shakes his head gently when Casey's hips give an experimental wiggle. "I ain't fit company for a dragon, let alone a sweet li'l thing like you."

She makes a moue with her lips. "Gonna break my heart, baby – what's wrong?"

"Nothin', I just..." Zed looks at her, suddenly realizing that there _is_ something he can do to help deal with those nasty rumors. "You ever hear... _things_ about me?"

"I heard you know how to treat a girl right, but that's nothing I don't already know. We don't gossip about none of our customers, 'specially you." Casey smiles and runs her fingers along the patch of white hair at his left temple. "Moxxi'd skin us all alive."

Zed gives her an altered story about what had happened. "Thing is, I healed her up before we - well, _you_ know. It's nice that some of y'all think it's, ah, _magic_...but that just ain't possible an' it could cause me a few problems if somethin' like that's spread around."

Casey's eyes go wide. "That's just terrible!"

"If you happen to hear anything like that...you'd let me know, wouldn't ya, Casey honey?" She nods immediately and he reaches up to stroke her hair. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"You must‘ve been worried something awful," she tells him. "Poor Zed. All you do is help people, and some girl's got to do a thing like this...no wonder you didn't want me."

The truth is that he really _does_ want her, but he'll survive without anything other than his own hand. "I'm real sorry to disappoint you." Casey grins suddenly and slides off to kneel in front of him, sliding her hands up his thighs. "What're you doin'?"

"There's this thing Moxxi calls _insurance_ ," Casey explains, fingers busy with the ties of his pants. "That girl spreading lies might make you not wanna come back to see me 'cause maybe you'll think we're all like that...but if I make you feel good right now, you'll come back for _sure_."

Zed's mouth goes dry as she scoots between his knees and bends down over his lap. "Casey..." 

"You just sit back and enjoy, baby. This one's on the house."

Evening settles over Flamerock Refuge like a blanket drifting to the ground, slow and easy. Zed watches the sunset from his window, feeling so relaxed that even a rampaging Orc couldn't damage his calm. He grabs his robes and soapstone, intending to walk down to the water and get cleaned up – there won't be a single soul around, so it's a good time to take that swim he's been wanting.

Zed walks across the main bridge and angles towards one of the smaller ones, then begins climbing down the narrow pieces of wood affixed to the side of the cliff. He sighs in contentment at how warm the air is, looking forward to returning to the waters that have been his home for so long. Thanks to the curse, he can only _truly_ enjoy it once a month when the moon is full…otherwise, he's stuck with two legs that he hates more than anything. Still, for a while Zed can dive beneath the surface and pretend that nothing's changed.

He's so busy thinking of how nice it'll be to get back in the water that he fails to really register the fact that someone else is climbing up the makeshift stairs. Zed looks up in time to see that the someone else is Patricia Tannis - _again_ \- and that, because of the spell, he's just knocked her clean off of the steps. They stare at each other in stunned silence for a moment, then she plunges headlong back towards the water while screaming her head off. He knows he'd better jump too, because there's a good chance she'll hit the rocks and if he can catch her, then he can knock her out further.

Zed flings his robes out and jumps, pushing off from the cliffside and swearing to himself. 

Friggin' _women._


	4. The trouble with tritons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia recovers from her near-death experience at the hands of Flamerock Refuge's troublesome triton, whose skills in delivering a decent apology are in dire need of polishing.

This is arguably the worst day of her entire life, Patricia thinks as she begins her headlong descent towards certain death. She's unaware of Zed jumping, too, until he slams into her with enough force to safely clear the rocks below. They plunge into the water together, and she struggles to claw her way back up to the surface while he seems to be doing his dead-level best (even in this desperate hour of peril, her mind insists upon creating a pun) to ensure that she never draws another breath of air.

“ _Relax_ , you idiot woman!”

“Stop insulting me,” Patricia says angrily. At least she’s striving to put across her sense of outrage; with her mouth full of water - all that comes out is an unintelligible spluttering noise. 

The homicidal maniac wrestles her over to the rocks where Patricia is dunked under yet again before he finally boosts her up. “What the hell d’you think you’re playin’ at?” he rages. “Flailin’ around like a damn…”

“…fish?”

“You just go on an’ close your mouth! You always gotta be bringin’ up fish!”

Patricia pins him with a slightly watery glare, as there is still a rivulet of seawater draining from the rims of her goggles, and reminds the man that he was the one who had brought it up first. “I must say, however, that despite your kinship to other underwater denizens…your swimming technique leaves quite a bit to be desired.”

Zed pauses in the act of pulling himself up on the rocks. “You better not be sayin’ what it sounds like you’re sayin’, lady.”

“I am saying that you do not know how to swim properly.”

“Don’t know how to…!” His nostrils flare in a most impressive manner, signifying a high degree of irritation. She’s getting a lot better at this ‘reading body language’ thing. “Are you for real right now? I spend two nights a damn month with the friggin’ _tail_ I was _born_ with and you got the audacity t’ tell _me_ -”

“You nearly drowned me,” Patricia reminds him.

Zed glares at her, and pulls himself out of the water. “I can easily update that ‘nearly’ to ‘definitely’ if you keep flappin’ your gums. You are the craziest person I ever met, an’ I’ve met my share of loons…shouldn’t even have been on them steps in the first place.”

“No, you should not have been.”

“Wasn’t talkin’ about _me_ ,” Zed snarls at her. “You women always gotta-”

“I grow weary of your gender-based insults, you sexist beast, so keep them to yourself until I ask you to share them with me!” Before she even realizes her own intent, Patricia has lifted her hand and slapped him in the face. This has the benefit of surprising the both of them and, more importantly, rendering the cleric completely silent for a welcome change. Not for the first time, Patricia thinks that it’s a monumental waste for such an aesthetically pleasing man to be so utterly disagreeable. “I also did not request that you bounce me from the steps like a child’s kickball, yet you have done so without so much as a breath of an apology.”

Zed stares at her like he can’t quite believe his eyes. “Oh, so I’m allowed to talk t’you now? I got permission an’ all?”

“Only if you can rein in your natural instinct to be as insulting as possible.”

“Aw, fer- c’mon, you know I coulda let you fall on the rocks over there,” he argues. “That proves I didn’t…bounce…ya on purpose!”

Patricia calmly points out that this proves nothing, only that he might not wish to have her death on his alleged conscience. “You have been _bouncing_ me – on purpose – for the majority of the day. This is not the strongest argument you could make concerning your innocence.”

He rubs his hands over his face, and then looks up at the sky for some reason. “Well, okay, I _did_ do that…but it was kinda your own fault.”

“In what way?”

“You were _there_.” Zed sighs. “Look, I just wanted t’come down here for some privacy. Most everyone’s s’posed to be back up there, you included, so I figured it was a good time to get my robes clean.”

While this explanation is an interesting one, it’s still not the apology Patricia is suddenly set on dragging from him. The infuriating cleric has been harassing her all day, and has nearly drowned her, but she is supposed to be content with a mumbled explanation and a semi-piteous facial expression. At least she’s fairly certain that’s what he’s trying out on her – he could be having a painful episode of gas, for all she knows _or_ cares. “You will have all the time in the kingdom to clean them now, so I suggest you get to it while I get as far away from you as possible,” she says tartly. “I will, however, need to dry my socks and shoes before leaving. I simply cannot abide having wet feet.”

Zed gives her another look that is probably supposed to mean something. “Fine. Shore’s that way.”

“I can see for myself which way the shore is located,” she snaps.

“Well, good! Get on outta my face, then!”

Patricia longs to slap him again, but suppresses the impulse through a herculean feat of mental strength for which she wasn’t even aware she had the capacity. “You will have to help me over, because a dangerous undercurrent has been recorded in this area.”

“So now I swim just fine when you need some help,” he says. “How about _that_.”

“I wouldn’t be in need of any help if it weren’t for you and your crippling fear of intimacy.”

Zed’s eyebrows draw together until it looks as if he’s hosting a hairy worm directly above his narrowed eyes. “My what, now?” He throws his hands up as she opens her mouth to repeat herself. “Never mind, I don’t give a good goddamn about _anything_ you got to say. You want over to that shore? Swim over yourself an’ risk the friggin’ undertow!”

“You are very emotional, aren’t you?” Patricia asks, and he goes red in the face upon taking her comment as an insult. She’s known hormonal adolescents who have more self-control than he seems to, but mentioning this proves to be a mistake on her part. Oh, she _means_ it…but it’s a mistake because Zed grabs her and hurls her back into the water as if she weighs nothing at all. 

Water fills her mouth because she hasn’t had sufficient warning to close it first, and Patricia tries to regain her equilibrium – it’s starting to become dark and she doesn’t even know which way is up. After what seems like an eternity of fighting the treacherous current that is pulling her back, she finally surfaces from her panic enough to realize that what’s holding her back isn’t the current at all. Zed is still sitting there on the rocks, keeping her tethered to him with a grip on her tunic, and laughing. “If you’re done freakin’ out, I’ll take you over.” 

“Release me,” Patricia yells, feeling the pressure on her sinuses begin to build. This is the last straw; he’s been harassing her the entire day, without a single thought to how it has made _her_ feel. She knows that there is probably something lurking underwater which will approach her at the first sign of blood in the water, and that she’s about to have a stress-induced nosebleed if Cleric Zed doesn’t leave her alone. Of course he has no idea what’s going to happen as a result of the merciless teasing he’s subjected her to, and the look on his face is inadequate compensation for the misery she feels when the first trickle of blood makes its way from her left nostril.

That thin trickle of blood quickly turns into a gush which sprays the surface of the water, Patricia’s clothing, and Zed when he jumps in next to her. “Whoa, what the _hell_ -”

“I told you to leave me alone,” Patricia says, treading water and trying to figure out how she can stop the blood from coating everything in sight – she could pinch her nose shut so that the broken blood vessel has time to form a coagulation, but she still needs her hands to swim. Oh, why hadn’t he just left her alone? This is all his fault. “This is all your fault,” she tells him, inadvertently causing a mist of red to spray across Zed’s face.

“C’mon, let’s get you over there,” Zed says, sounding unusually subdued. She allows him to wrap an arm around her chest and lets him pull her backwards against his body, leaving her free to pinch her nostrils and tilt her head. “Jus’ relax, I’ve got ya.” He kicks away from their previous perch, using his other arm to help him navigate through the water somehow – she’s a bit busy dealing with her explosive nosebleed to care overmuch – and they reach the shore just as Patricia’s mind registers the facts that her buttocks are directly pressed against Zed’s crotch, and that she can feel something rather interesting back there. Patricia wriggles experimentally, and he stops swimming to adjust the angle of their contact. “That don’t mean I like you or nothin’.”

Fascinating.

They reach the shallows where Zed immediately releases her, fussing with his robes – he’s wearing a different kind, today – and refusing to meet her eyes. “So, uh, what the hell was _that_ all about?”

Patricia squints at him, unsure if he’s being serious or not. “That seemed to be a substantial erection due to sexual arousal.”

“Not _that!_ Jeez!” Zed does some squinting of his own. “I meant your nose. You do that on command or somethin’?”

“It seems to be my body’s natural response to” she pauses for effect and makes sure he’s looking at her “ _stress_.”

He says something along the lines of wondering how she can keep the majority of her blood in her veins, and plucks at the pink stain on his tunic. Zed scuffs the toes of his sandals against the rocks, and goes back to not wanting to look at her. “Look, I…I know I been real awful to ya ever since we first met.”

“You certainly have,” Patricia agrees.

“D’you mind? I wasn’t done!” Zed coughs into a fist. “Anyways. Um. You kinda ruined my clothes, what with the bleedin’ all over the place.”

If this is his way of sidling up to an apology, Patricia thinks he has a ways to go before he fully captures the essence of one. “The bleeding was your fault,” she says again.

“Well, you said that already. I ain’t the best with words, so…”

Patricia widens her eyes at this stunning admission. “ _Really._ ”

“Y’know what? Never mind, I take it back,” Zed bellows at her. 

“You haven’t said a single thing that _could_ be taken back.”

“That’s ‘cause you won’t let me finish what I’m tryin’ t’say, lady!” Zed actually stomps his foot. She thought that sort of thing happened only in stage plays; he’s getting angrier than she’s ever seen him, which is saying something. “You come around with…with your face, an’ your _legs_ , an’ your _lips_! You and yer goggles. And your face, did I mention that ‘cause….it’s _there_. You act like you’re better ‘n me.”

“With my face?”

“With your damned face! You just show up, an’ smell good…well, I ain’t havin’ it!”

Patricia blinks in surprise and brings her hand up to carefully touch her nose. It seems to have clotted for the moment, which gives her more freedom to think of Zed and his absurd declarations. "When have I ever acted as though I were better? Please notice that I am not refuting the heavily implied fact that I most likely _am_."

Zed turns away from her to grab the sodden, dirty heap of cloth he'd brought with him. "You're always talkin' fancy, like I can't possibly know what the hell you're sayin'. Nobody needs to use all them words," he grunts, dragging the mess back to the water and kneeling in front of it. Patricia cranes her neck to watch him spread the fabric out, patting at his outfit as if searching for something. He lurches back to his feet with a muttered oath, and heads into the patch of scrub grass to look for whatever he was unable to find.

"Do you require assistance, or are you going to stomp around and scowl for the remainder of the evening?"

" _Help_ ," Zed says irritably. "Do I need _help_. Ain't gotta say _assistance_ like there's somebody out here who gives a damn 'bout fancy talk."

Patricia sighs and moves up to the most comfortable looking rock she can find, removing her footwear and spreading everything out to dry. After a moment, she decides to peel off her trousers as well and tiptoes out into the grass to find another rock to lay them across. When Patricia turns to walk back to her rock, however, she finds that Zed has abandoned the search for his whatever-it-is in favor of staring at her. He's probably about to start yelling at her again for something, judging from his intent expression and increased rate of breathing. "What is it _this_ time?" she demands. 

He immediately scowls at her and turns away but when Patricia sneaks a peek just a few seconds later, Zed is staring at her again. She can't think of why he would want to keep watching someone he so clearly despises, and tells him so. "I ain't watchin' nobody!"

"So, you are saying that your eyeballs simply drift in my direction because of a strange medical disorder?"

"Leave me _alone_." Zed finally finds whatever he's been searching for, which is revealed to be a piece of soapstone, and storms back over to the pile of fabric at the water's edge. 

Patricia sighs and begins to pick the grass and sand from between her toes, then taps her feet against the rock as boredom begins to set in. Zed's sitting cross-legged just in front of her, scrubbing at the stains on his robes and is back to pretending that she doesn't exist. She watches him for a while, drifting into a pleasant daydream which involves a genuine apology and a great deal of exposed male skin but he glances back and catches her at it, which sets off another explosion of educational profanity. "You are astonishingly ill-tempered," she tells him. "Perhaps it is partly caused by your wet clothing. I suggest removing it."

His spine stiffens immediately. " _No_."

"I can assure you that it is nothing I have not seen before."

"Stop talkin' now," Zed tells her. "Matter of fact, whyn't you just get outta here. Go drown yourself for all I care…just _go_."

"I don't suppose that you have a spell that can dry-"

" _ **No**_."

He really is being unreasonably surly, Patricia thinks to herself. She might as well leave him to both his awful mood and robe laundering chores, and record this latest encounter on her scroll. Her pants aren't dry yet, but she's not about to walk back up the steps wearing only her shirt and the new undergarments Ellie had advised her to buy. The thought crosses her mind that they are the reason why Zed had been staring at her, because they are well-fitted enough not to ride up uncomfortably beneath her trousers. Well, she had better get dressed so that she can vacate his irritatingly attractive presence as soon as possible.

Patricia rolls her socks into a ball and slides her legs into her trousers, but they're still so wet that she can't pull them up easily…so she levers herself into a standing position and tugs. That doesn't work either, and Patricia finds herself having to jump in place while hauling on the waistband of the offending garment. She gets them up to thigh level before they get stuck again right beneath her buttocks, so she's forced to jump harder.

A terrifically loud splash makes her glance over her shoulder to see that Cleric Zed has taken notice of her once again, and seems to have tipped himself into the water for some reason. "What on earth are you doing?"

"Me? Nothin', I was just…nothin'." Zed coughs into a fist. "What, uh, what're _you_ …doin' over there."

"I am attempting to don my _pants_ , since nobody here seems to have any useful spells which could be used to dry wet clothing," she says, feeling aggrieved. "I don't suppose I could persuade you to help."

His eyes grow enormous. "Help. Me. Help… _you_ with your…your…"

"What is _wrong_ with you? Come here!"

Zed releases another strangled cough when she goes back to jumping up and down. "Gimme a minute."

She turns back to see him punching his fist against a rock, which seems fairly painful and completely unnecessary in her opinion. What is _wrong_ with the man? " _Now_."

He sighs loudly and climbs to his feet, walking over to her as though someone is forcing him every step of the way. "You are makin' me crazy, woman. Sooner you get outta my life, the happier I'll be."

"The feeling is quite mutual," Patricia informs him. "Now, I will need you to grasp my pants and pull them up so that I can leave you to your ablutions."

Zed sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at the sky. He really is acting strangely, Patricia thinks. Perhaps it is a common triton behavioral trait. "Whyn't I just, uh, brace you or somethin' so you can do it yourself? That sounds better." They try this and it doesn't work very well, probably because Zed is pressing down on her shoulders too hard and not really paying attention to his part of the job, so they're back to where they started. "Why's this sorta thing gotta happen to me?" Zed complains to no one in particular.

"If it's difficult for you to actually provide _assistance_ for a change, then-"

"Let's just get this mess over with! Tina as my _witness_ , I've never known anyone as annoying," Zed hisses. "Just…just hang onta me, an' button your lips 'til we're done. _Jeez_."

Patricia narrows her eyes at him. "Very well."

"I said be quiet!"

He guides her arms up around his neck and hesitates briefly before reaching down and sliding his fingers between the bunched-up fabric and her bare skin. There's a disquieting amount of _tingling_ happening in her nether regions at being trapped against Zed's body as he slowly works her trousers up over the curve of her bottom. Patricia angles her head and watches him through her lashes. _Why_ must he be so pleasing to behold and yet be so unpleasant to actually interact with?

Zed's still biting down on his lower lip and his brows are furrowed in concentration. Patricia's gaze drifts from the strong jaw to the white at his temple and without fully realizing it, she's lifted a hand to stroke the bold line of white hair. His fingers tighten in surprise and, since he's almost gotten her pants back up, he winds up clasping her bottom in his big hands. They both stay frozen like that for a moment, aware that neither of them really meant for _this_ to happen (and that if they don't acknowledge it then maybe it never happened in the first place,) and then Patricia draws in a shocked breath. She feels the undeniable evidence of Zed's arousal firming up against her, and there's that _tingling_ again as if her reproductive system has staged a mutiny. "Oh, my."

"Oh, no," is Zed's startled reply. He takes a step back, but Patricia still has her arms around him so he brings her with him. "Get offa me!"

Patricia is beginning to see that this interesting intrapersonal development may be one she can exploit to increase her knowledge about his species. Once she figures out how to use it to her advantage. "If you insist. Thank you for the help." She pulls her pants up the rest of the way, watching how Zed folds his hands together to conceal his erection. Wishing she could get a good look at it…for scientific purposes, of course. "I don't suppose you would show me-"

"Quit _lookin'_ down there," Zed growls at her. "That don't mean I like you any!"

"Of course not."

"It don't make you special."

"Of course it doesn't," Patricia murmurs. She gives his loins one last longing glance before picking her way back to the base of the cliff, not looking back to see if he's watching. She doesn't have to, to know that he most definitely _is_.

Besides…if she looks it will just give Zed the excuse he needs to open his mouth and say something obnoxious because for once, she has the last word.


	5. Fifty Shades of "HEY!"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ill-fated visit to the Flavor Cave spawns Zed's current bout of misadventures, and Patricia gets some of her own back after Zed struggles to follow Nina's advice.

It's been an entire week since the fiasco down by the water at Flamerock Refuge, but every time Zed thinks about it, it feels like it just happened. He's well aware of the fact that he's the one who exacerbated the situation, but how was he to know that she'd have a nosebleed like that? Zed still feels guilty about it, and he doesn't like feeling guilty about _anything_ \- once you start caring too much, that's when you become vulnerable. He's got enough to worry about these days, and now she's got to add to it. And why had Tannis thought that jumping up and down in front of him was a good idea, anyway? No wonder he'd gotten an erection; anyone would have, if they had seen her with her ass hanging out and jiggling like that! Plus, there'd been friction. It hadn't been _his_ fault. 

Zed figures that it was probably stress-related, anyway, what with that barmaid.

He'd waited until Tannis had stomped off before finishing up his laundry…and then drying it all with that spell Zed had claimed not to have. If he'd known for one second what kind of trouble he'd land in, he would have just given it to her immediately.

Zed kicks at a loose pebble, sending it into the water and wondering why he allows himself to get so riled up by the woman in the first place. Maybe she just can’t help being so annoying. He’s known a few people like that, after all, and Zed’s even heard that some think that _he_ isn’t the easiest to get along with. Not that he could ever imagine why they would feel that way, but to each their own. “Stop kicking all of my rocks into the water,” someone yells at him, and Zed looks up to see Spatula Khan trotting towards him waving his cooking utensils in the air.

“Sorry, didn’t know that one was yours….your spatula-ness.”

The other man sighs and his shoulders slump with defeat. “I have been looking for the perfect rocks to use for a new recipe.”

“Beg pardon, Mister Khan, but ain’t nobody gonna eat a rock – it just ain’t happenin’,” Zed tells him. “Don’t that Way of the Great Spatula of yours got anything to say concernin’ edibility?” 

Spatula Khan looks at him as though Zed’s completely lost his mind. “Heathen! Do you know _nothing?_ ”

“That depends on what it was last seen wearin’…oh, you know I’m just kiddin’! Calm down, I know it’s just to heat stuff.” Zed bows to him to show that he’s serious, and the other man bows back out of sheer reflex. “I was actually comin’ to see if you needed healin’.”

He gets invited to the khan’s home and is obligated to sit through the same lecture he’s given on every single visit, but Zed doesn’t complain because he likes hanging out at the Flavor Cave. It always smells good, which is a welcome change from some of the hellholes Zed has been to, and he’s always sent away with at least a week’s worth of some really weird food. This time, it’s something that looks like it might have been Orc. Zed’s not sure if it’s technically cannibalism or not, since the Orcs were made by the Handsome Sorcerer from the remains of the army. Or was that just the skeletons? “If you are afraid to eat something, do not eat it. If you are eating something, do not be afraid.”

“Alrighty then,” Zed agrees as he withdraws a few extra needles from his pack. “Uh, did this stuff previously _talk_ , that you know of...? No? Okay.”

The khan sends him on his way with a stern glare and several containers of whatever-it-is, so Zed now has no choice but to head back to Flamerock Refuge. He’s not quite ready to go back in case _she's_ there, but with this food he’ll have to get a preservation spell put on it and that kind of magic isn’t one Zed’s good at. He can heal via blood magic, and provide a snappy comeback if someone tries to get smart with him, but that’s about it. 

Zed walks back along the shoreline, carefully not looking at the spot where he’d ran afoul of that net, and up to the Unassuming Docks. There are a few kids running around getting underfoot and a couple of them dart over to mess with him, but Zed lets them know that he’s well aware of who their parents are and that they’d better think twice before they decide to get cute. He makes a few stops at the cluster of houses leading up to the mountain, and then there’s nothing for it but to go on inside. The white knight passes him on the way. “Hey, girl.”

“Hey there, Roland. Doin’ alright?”

“For shizzle, my dizzle. I’ll see you on the flip, for real.”

“Uh…what?”

Roland smiles and slaps him on the back so hard that Zed almost falls down. “Catch you later, my ho.”

“Bye,” Zed tells him, scratching his neck and wondering what in the world just happened. He’s still thinking about it as he walks through the passage into Flamerock Refuge and catches sight of Ellie. “You got any idea what a _dizzle_ is?” Zed asks.

Ellie chuckles and sits down next to him. “Y’all musta seen Roland. Don’t pay him no mind, it’s just one of those things outta the Gospel of Tina. I heard that’s how She really talks.”

“For real? Huh,” Zed says. He’s never been a religious man, but he supposes that it does make a certain kind of sense. “Never quite thought of it that way, but it would explain a lot. He called me a ‘ho,’ too…that some kinda secret code?”

“Nah, just means you’re a slut.”

“ _’Scuse_ me?”

Ellie takes a look at his face and starts laughing. “In a good way! It’s kinda like how you wouldn’t walk into Moxxi’s and call the girls whores, but they can call each other whores an’ it’s just fine and dandy.”

“If you say so,” Zed grumbles.

“Whatcha got there? Oooh, was you 'round the Flavor Cave again? What’d he give ya this time?”

Zed hands over a container. “Here, you can have one…think it might be Orc meat, though. I heard they used to be human, so I dunno about eatin’ it.”

She peeks inside and hands it back quickly. “I thought that was just them skel’tons. Maybe ol’ Spatula just used some herbs to make this stuff green though…” Ellie shudders expressively. “If I was you, I’d just go ask Patty ‘bout it – she could tell ya right away what it is.”

“Patty? Patty who?” Zed carefully places the lid back on and when he looks back up, Ellie has a shit-eating grin on her face. “Oh, _her_. No, I don’t think so.”

His friend’s grin grows enormous. “Why not? _I_ heard y’all was gettin’ all kinds of cozy down there in the water last week…which sure is somethin’ else, ‘cause that girl don’t know how to swim.” Ellie sees his confusion and takes the opportunity to lean in close, prodding at his ribs. “You was makin’ sure no water got in, right?”

What _is_ she talking about? “Huh? I took her back t’shore, if that’s what you mean.”

“No, I mean _pluggin’ a hole_ …”

Zed leaps to his feet as Ellie’s meaning becomes clear. “ _Eleanor!_ I _never_ …! I got half a mind to tell your momma that-”

“Oh, simmer down! You’re so uptight sometimes, I swear to Tina,” Ellie laughs. “I was just teasin’... But for real, Patty says you got some serious wood a couple times.”

“There was _friction_ ,” Zed yells. Does nobody on this Tina-forsaken rock know _anything_ about friction? He stomps off towards his apothecary and is almost to the side door when who should show up to make his day but Tannis herself. "Don't you start with me," he warns, and shoves a container of food at her. "Take it and leave me alone!"

He fumbles with the lock, hoping that she'll turn around and scram, but of course she stays right where she is. "What _is_ this, and why are you giving it to me?"

"Could be Orc. I dunno," Zed grunts, finally jamming the key into the lock and getting the damned thing to turn. He shoves against the door because it's just his luck that it's stuck. "Gotta go, bye!" Zed slams the door in her face and runs up the stairs as fast as his robes will allow, only realizing when he's upstairs that he's completely forgotten to get that spell from Moxxi's. He peeks out of the window to find Tannis standing directly below it, shoveling the green-tinged meat into her mouth. What the…?

She tilts her head back and looks right at him, chewing like crazy. Why does she have to be so damned _weird_? Zed sighs and leans out, waiting for her to say something because it's clear that she'll have some sort of comment to make. "Seaweed," Tannis finally announces. "And Orc."

"Oh, gross. And you _ate_ it," Zed complains loudly.

"You were the one to present it to me for the sole purpose of consumption." Tannis takes another mouthful, and he's starting to feel like he's going to be sick. "It tastes like chicken."

" _Ew_ ," he says expressively. "Go be a cannibal somewhere else, lady."

She launches into a long-winded explanation of how it's nothing of the kind, and Zed leaves the window and lets her ramble while he gathers up the rest of the containers so that he can dump them in the midden out back. Disgusting.

He comes back to the window and she's still talking in his general direction, so he sits by the sill while he waits for her to leave. "Let me in your shop," Tannis demands finally when Zed doesn't respond to her third consecutive mention of his penis.

"Nope. Go away."

"Why do you even maintain a storefront if it is never actually open to the public you are sworn to serve?"

He spots a loose thread hanging from the hem of his cloak and yanks on it. "Oh, I got my reasons."

"I will assume all of those reasons have to do with your basic antisocial nature."

Zed glances out at her. "Wow, you got me real freakin' good that time. Now _scram_."

Her eyes narrow at him in a calculating manner he doesn't care for. "Cleric Zed, you are being uncommonly civil during this interaction."

"I know, right? Ain't that a miracle?" Zed himself doesn't even know how he's doing it, because he feels like he just may explode if he's not allowed to holler at her soon. Nobody has the right to be that damned cute, and it's driving him crazy…after their last interaction, he'd spent the rest of the night trying to figure out just why he can't keep it together for longer than thirty seconds whenever she's around. Zed's narrowed it down to something so wild, that of _course_ it makes sense - he's seen grown men absolutely lose their minds when they come face-to-face with something cute, like a baby Pandoracorn, but some of them just get mad because they can't handle that level of adorability.

While Zed doesn't necessarily view Patricia Tannis the same as a miniature relative of Queen Butt Stallion, and he wouldn't ever make the comparison aloud where she could hear him, it _does_ make a certain kind of sense. Add her cuteness level to his natural defensiveness, and it's no wonder Zed can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. He's worked hard to keep every living thing at arm's length ever since the curse came down on him like a Iron Golem who'd slipped on a fruit rind, and now here's Tannis invading his personal space like she has a right to be there. And he _wants_ her there, even as he wants her to leave him alone because things like this can never end well – humans belong on land; she'd want him to stay with her…and he'd try, until the day comes when he can't stand it any longer and he has to leave. The sea is where he's always belonged and being away from it is like a constant dull pain in his stomach. Not even the knowledge that he'd rip away half of her soul when he left her (and it would be _when_ , not _if_ ) would keep him from where he's meant to be.

Thinking about it simply makes him angrier, and makes him want to speak more sharply to her so that she'll finally get the message and leave him alone. It's better for both of them if she just forgets what he is, and what she'd seen that day at the Docks. Zed should have never encouraged her by his teasing and taunts, but a part of him just can't help it. He wants her and knows he shouldn't, so he pretends he doesn't and that it's just a game to help pass the time. Caring too much about anyone can only lead to suffering, which he knows only too well…if Zed had just known that before it was too late and the Handsome Sorcerer was leveling that staff at him, then he wouldn't be in this mess to begin with.

Having a soul is a huge pain in the ass.

"I am _speaking_ to you," Tannis yells at him suddenly, and Zed's jerked out of his thoughts as a clump of Spatula Khan's mystery meat comes sailing up to smack him right in the face.

"What the _fuck!_ " Zed leaps to his feet and, his resolve to stay calm completely forgotten, grabs the closest object and lobs it in her direction. He realizes too late that he's just thrown an earthenware mug at her and it catches her in the back of her head because she was turning to leave. "Shit." Tannis crumples to the cobblestones without a sound, and Zed heaves himself out of the window. Oh, Tina, he's just killed her. Is she dead? _Shit!_ He goes sliding down the tiles and the hem of his robes snag against the broken tile he's meant to fix for ages but never quite got around to it, so Zed is sent tumbling to the ground with his robes unraveling as he goes, like a bolt of linen being unrolled. He crashes to the ground and scrambles over to her, pulling her into his arms in a desperate attempt to see if she's still breathing. "Oh, no. No, no, no – wake up, I'm sorry, _please_ -"

Zed presses his ear against her left breast to listen for a heartbeat and nearly faints in relief when he hears it. He can feel her stir beneath him and freezes as he tries to think of how he's going to get out of this. "What do you think you are doing?" Tannis asks him after a good minute and a half goes by.

"I, uh, thought you were dead," he says, drawing back and helping her stand up.

She sways on her feet, wincing as she lifts a hand to the back of her head. "Dead? Why would I be dead? What happened?"

Zed casually extends a foot to nudge the broken shards of the mug into the weeds and widens his eyes innocently. "Looks like somethin' hit you, I dunno. Think it was a bird."

"A _bird?_ "

"Yeah, like a…a _big_ one." Zed reaches out to support her when she sways again, and pushes the mug further from view using his heel. "Look, whyn't you come in an' I'll get you fixed up."

Tannis starts to say something, but stops and focuses on him. "What are you _wearing?_ "

He looks down to see that, thanks to that broken tile, he’s down to his tunic and leggings – his robes are only attached to him by the sleeve closest to his shop and the rest of the fabric is draped down the side of it and hanging off of the building in a single continuous piece. Zed swears and releases her shoulders to yank ineffectually on his ripped clothing, then decides to just give up and save what’s left of his dignity…which isn’t much, but it’s all he has at this point. “C’mon,” he sighs and heads towards the door.

Of course, Zed’s also forgotten that it’s been locked from the inside and he doesn’t keep spare keys hidden outside because of what had happened two years ago with a drunken Sir Hammerlock and that magnet. Zed walks over and tugs at what’s left of his robes (and dignity, because he hasn’t forgotten about that either), trying to gauge how strong it is and if he can use it as a rope to climb up. If he hadn’t brained the hell out of Tannis with that mug, Zed would suggest that she go because she’s a lot smaller and lighter than he is, so he’ll have to give it a try. She’s still too woozy to say much about it and he’s not about to heal her before they get behind closed doors, but thankfully Tannis doesn’t put up a fuss when he gets her sitting down.

Zed climbs up as quickly as he can manage, gathering an impressive collection of scrapes and bruises as well as nearly falling a few times, but he makes it back up to the window and slides in. She’s still sitting there looking a bit glassy eyed by the time he runs downstairs and unlocks the front door. Zed carries her inside, wondering if he’s ever felt this ashamed of himself before. “Hey, uh...don’t be goin’ to sleep on me.”

“I am doing no such thing,” Tannis argues, and it sounds like she’s drunk off her ass. _Damn_ it! “What are you doing now?” she asks as he rolls the sleeve of his tunic up to his elbow and slips his arm beneath her, working his fingers into her hair. 

Zed makes sure his palm is cupping the injured area, which has already swollen up to the size of his fist, and brings his other hand to stroke her hair back from her forehead. “Just breathe easy; I gotcha.” He summons his magic and feels it seep out through his fingertips, where it settles into her skin and begins to knit broken blood vessels back together. Tannis moans softly, her eyes opening to look up at him – Zed glances down at her face before returning his attention towards the wound he’d caused. “Almost done,” Zed murmurs, feeling the swelling reduce and he really has no reason to still be holding her like this but he pretends it’s necessary.

She looks up at him, and Zed feels his heart stutter in his chest as those bright green eyes fix on his face. “Thank you.”

“No, don’t _thank_ me for-” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath to steady himself. Nina had been right; it was time for him to start acting like a man. “I knocked you out with a cup.”

“I know.”

“I didn’t _mean_ to, or nothin’, I just…what d’ya mean, you _know_.”

Tannis blinks up at him and Zed helps her sit up when she indicates that she wants to. “You seemed far too guilty for it to have been a _bird_. Honestly, it beggars belief that you thought I might fall for it. A _bird_.” She shakes her head. “I would have thought that you could make up a far more elaborate lie, such as a sudden attack by a rampaging Unchained Golem…or a drunken Dwarfzerker who had replaced his ammunition with ping pong balls…or-”

“Okay, I get the picture,” Zed says irritably. “I suppose you’re gonna go off an’ tell Ellie all about it now, so’s she can spread the gossip far and wide.” This isn’t really fair to Ellie because she’s never _really_ been the gossiping type for as long as Zed’s known her, but she’s not there to smack him for saying it and she _had_ passed along that information to him earlier. “She said you told her all about what happened down on the shore. Nobody in this damn village knows a thing about friction. Get outta my lap.”

“I quite like it here,” she argues. Zed dumps her off onto the floor and tries to remember that thing about acting like a man…he’ll start doing that in about ten minutes or so. For now, she’s back to driving him up the wall. “I wish to discuss the details of your curse.”

“No thanks.”

She scrunches her nose up in frustration, and it’s really the cutest thing. Zed can already feel the answering rage boiling up inside him. _Baby Pandoracorns_. “Well, I suppose there is a reason for your shop being constantly closed,” she says, standing up and brushing herself off. “I have seen better organization in the immediate aftermath of a skirmish with Mister Boney Pants Guy.” 

“You can go on outta here if it bothers you that dang much,” Zed points out. “’Sides, this’s all perfectly organized! I know where everything is – you just name somethin’ and I’ll tell you right where to find it.”

Tannis folds her arms across her chest tightly enough to cause some very interesting…mounding…to happen around her neckline. It’s the same sort of thing Moxxi is constantly doing to attract attention and, while she almost always succeeds in making Zed take a peek, watching Patricia Tannis do it is infinitely more fascinating. He peels his eyes off of her and pretends that he was only noticing a stain on her tunic. “Fine. Where is your supply of prophylactics?”

He’s going to have a heart attack and die right there on the spot without having the chance to regain his true form. “My…my _what?_ ” Zed croaks.

She drifts closer to him, pulling something out of her shoulder bag as she does so. “You _do_ know what prophylactics are?”

“Yeah, but why…” Zed clears his throat. “I don’t, uh, there’s...a _spell_ for that. Over there, ‘neath those papers.” He points, and Tannis walks over to uncover a small crate full of bottles with rolls of paper. 

Tannis uncorks one and pulls the paper out, frowning at it. “This is for treatment of a sexually transmitted _disease_ , not pregnancy prevention.”

“Well, lotsa parents say kids are a disease so it ain’t like I was _totally_ wrong…what is that?” Zed narrows his eyes at the stone she’d taken out of her bag – it looks like a gem of some kind. The kind that are usually used to store spells in.

She brings it over to show him. “I took the liberty of borrowing a truth spell from one of the members of the Dahl Brotherhood. Since they won’t see fit to admit me to their ranks, the least they could do is loan me items on occasion.”

‘They know they was loanin’ that to ya?”

“Not as such…but nevermind that!” Tannis is standing so close to him, Zed can feel her body heat. “Given the events of late, I simply must clear something up. Are you truly under an enchantment?”

Zed frowns at her and takes a step back. She takes one forward. “Yeah, I already said so.”

The stone glows white, and she nods. “Interesting. How long are you bound to your current form, at present?”

“A month, minus the two days I get…why are you _askin’_ me this?”

Tannis’ stone glows once more, and she crowds him again. “Do you have carnal interest in me?”

Zed moves back, but there’s nowhere to go since she’s maneuvered him into a corner – literally and figuratively. “You can just go on, now. Looks like that mug knocked out the rest of your alleged brains-”

“But do you want to have sexual relations with me?” She keeps pestering him, and Zed swears that he can feel each individual bead of sweat as it forms on his forehead.

“No-” The stone turns a deep red, probably matching his ears right about now.

Tannis smiles at him, just as sweet as can be, and lifts the stone closer. “I believe I have just caught you in a _lie_ , Cleric Zed.”

“Why’re you _doin’_ this to me?” Zed demands. “I wish I never even saw your damn face! Why’d I wanna sleep with someone who’s as annoying as you? I don’t even _like_ you…” During this recital, the stone has turned a shade of red so dark it’s nearly black. There’s a few tendrils of smoke lifting off the surface of it. “…an’ I wish you’d just get outta my life! Only reason I got a hard-on that time was ‘cause of you rubbin’ up on me; you ain’t even that cute! You come in here actin’ like I’m seconds away from marryin’ your ass an’ I’d never, _ever_ -”

The spellstone abruptly reaches its limit – evidently one must evenly space their complete bullshit when around one of these things – and, right there in front of his face, it explodes.

“That was most informative,” Tannis says finally, as Zed is clawing at his face and convinced that his hair’s on fire. “What _are_ you doing? Overreacting as usual, I presume.”

He pushes her aside and stumbles towards his wash basin, frantically splashing water in his face. “It - _aaah!_ \- blew up right in my eyes, you li’l idiot!” Zed opens his eyes carefully after rinsing them, and winces as he feels several shards dig into his eyelids. He bends back over the water and rinses them again, acutely aware of the way Tannis is still watching him. “Ain’t you got no one else’s life to mess up?”

She hands him a towel to dry his face, reaching up to trace his left eyebrow with her finger. “I am positive that this will grow back eventually.”

“What are you still doin’ here?” Zed asks wearily, so fed up that he lacks the energy to even knock her hand away when her fingers move along the patch of his white hair. She seems to like those, for whatever reason. Maybe the next time he’s near that shoemaker in the Forbidden Forest, he’ll buy some boot black to cover up the white – that’d show her. Zed’s not really sure _what_ it would show her, but he’ll figure that out later.

Tannis sways closer, pressing right up against his chest and lifting herself up on her toes. “I am here only to test a theory.” Both of her hands are stroking the sides of his face and it feels very, _very_ nice.

One of Zed’s arms curve around her of its own volition - _he_ certainly didn't tell it to go there – and he slowly reaches up to slide his fingers back into her hair. She’s too cute. It really shouldn’t be allowed, Zed thinks to himself. Her eyes flick from his, down to his mouth. Her tongue darts out to moisten her lips and Zed nearly stops breathing. “What kinda…theory…d’you, uh, wanna test?”

She tilts her head to the side, and it’s like everything about her is an invitation he’s not able to stop himself from passing up. Zed lowers his head and just as their lips are about to touch, Tannis slides her fingers between their faces to cover his mouth. “Interesting,” she says, leaning back and twisting herself free of Zed’s grasp. “It seems as though that spell wasn’t malfunctioning, after all.”

Zed’s lust-addled mind is still trying to catch up to the fact that she isn’t actually going to kiss him. “W-what’s goin’ on?” he stutters, unable to grasp…well, _anything_ , because she’s walking towards the door. “What the hell just happened?”

“My theory was proven correct. I thank you for your participation,” Tannis says cheerfully.

“But…” Zed is dumbfounded. “But _you_ wanted-”

She pauses in the doorway, turning back towards him. “Oh, were you under the impression that your base sexual urges were in any way reciprocated?” Tannis shakes her head. “You see, Zed, I know perfectly well that you frequent Moxxi’s Grog & Girls whenever you visit Flamerock Refuge. Why in the world would I want what everyone else has already had?”

And with that, she’s gone.

Zed stares at the door, listening to her footsteps on the stairs, unable to believe what had just occurred. His disbelief quickly segues into anger as she slams the front door of his shop, and Zed throws the shutters open. “ _Hey!_ ” he roars down at her. “You forgot somethin’!”

She stops and looks up at him. “What?”

He crosses the room and grabs the basin of water, hauling it back over to the window. “ _This_.” Zed dumps it out over her head and closes the shutters against any retaliation she might decide to take. 

The sound of her enraged scream is one he intends to cherish for a good long while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm seriously considering renaming this story...when I first posted it, I'd intended the title to be a play on a certain song from The Little Mermaid but now I'm not very happy with it. Let me know what you think!


	6. Sink or swimming lessons.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia changes her tactics and gets herself locked in Zed's Apothecary for the night while Zed gives her the silent treatment. There are also some totally sick explosions, skinny-dipping, and Rule Number Three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any plot holes (and boy, are there _plot holes_ ) will be addressed in the upcoming chapter. As I am struggling to finish a Big Bang entry, there might be a bit of a wait so I apologize in advance.

Patricia sighs irritably when, yet again, her quill snaps and she’s left with a puddle of ink on what is supposed to be her treatise on merfolk. She can practically hear Zed’s bellow of outrage ringing in her ears just thinking about that particular name for his kin.

 _Zed_.

Has there ever been a more infuriating male in the history of creation? Patricia highly doubts it. He can bluster all he likes concerning the annoyance of her attractiveness, but refuses to address the problems that his _own_ desirability causes. She can barely concentrate on her goals due to the concentrated manliness he exudes at every turn, and her very dreams are tormented with unwanted erotic imagery. In her weaker moments, Patricia thinks that she should have simply allowed Zed to kiss her – surely his sexual appeal extends no further than that wonderfully muscular body…it certainly fetches up against his bad attitude.

She really should make an effort to broker a truce with the man. Not for the purposes of experiencing the same sort of dubious charms he’s shared with any number of serving girls in the tavern – really, he’s more of a slattern than Moxxi’s public persona! – but because Zed is due to revert to his natural form in less than two days. Patricia doesn’t think she can endure another month with the sort of animosity that has existed between them ever since she’d come across him in that net.

There’s no way to predict when Cleric Zed will visit Flamerock Refuge, which makes her task that much more difficult. How can she convince him to let her conduct her studies if she doesn’t even know how to find him? Patricia has seriously considered faking a medical emergency, but this sort of falsehood might negatively impact her desired result…she doesn’t scruple at being the _cause_ of one, however, and she knows just whom to center it around.

She finds Lord Flexington practicing bodybuilder poses over by the bridge leading to the Forest. “ARE YOU IN THE MOOD FOR A SICK-*SS QUEST OR _WHAT?_ ” he bellows at her. 

This is going to be much easier than she thought. “On the contrary, I would like you and your meaty over-developed body to partake of a quest of _mine_. I am unsure of the level of…sick-assedness, however.”

“YOU BETTER MOTHERF*CKING BELIEVE I AM READY FOR THIS G*DD*MNED QUEST,” he yells. “WHAT KIND OF SH*T D’YOU WANT ME TO DO, SCIENCE LADY?”

Patricia pauses for a moment to collect her thoughts and wonder if this might not be a little bit ‘too far’, as they say. 

Of course it’s not, she swiftly decides. It’s for _science_.

“I wish to view the most magnificent explosion Pandora has ever seen,” she declares. “ _That_ is your quest.”

“MEEDLY-MOWWWWWWWWW, THAT IS THE MOST F*CKING AWESOME QUEST I HAVE EVER HEARD OF.” Lord Flexington lopes off to do her bidding, and all Patricia has to do is wait.

She wanders off to visit with Ellie, who relays far too much information on what the handsome adventurer Axton enjoys doing when he’s both drunk and in the nude. Patricia suffers through such details as the dimple above Axton’s well-rounded left buttock and the many euphemisms the man is determined to use for his penis. “And then he actually called it ‘the little lady,’” Ellie hoots. “Ain’t that somethin’? He’s cute as fuck though, so I don’t care if he gives that thang a high-five an’ its own house on a hilltop somewhere.”

“How could it possibly have its own house?” Patricia wonders. Ellie’s reply is lost in the thundering explosion that she’d requested – there are a few shrieks, so it looks as though Patricia has achieved the desired result…hopefully any injuries are of the non-fatal variety. “I suppose that someone will have to find a way to contact Cleric Zed for assistance.”

Ellie sighs and crams her helmet on. “Do me a favor, cutie, an’ go ask Mordecai to send his bird after Zed – looks like I gotta go slap Torgue into the stocks again. I swear to Tina, that _man!_ ”

Patricia is left to do her friend’s bidding and she reluctantly delivers the request, then immediately returns to her own home and barricades the door against intruders. The last thing she needs is for anyone to insist that she help those in need. She has more than enough to do just for _herself_. To that end, Patricia finds an unused scroll and passes the time by sketching Zed in his triton form, jotting down such details as scale size and degree of bioluminescence. _Does_ he glow in deep water? With a tail like that, there must be some kind of built-in defense mechanisms…the scales provide a sturdy sort of armor, but his top half seems absurdly vulnerable to attack with the only visible defense being a terrible attitude. It’s been a month since she’d actually seen - and touched - his true form, so Patricia is in dire need of a reminder.

She finishes her drawings and decides to go see if Zed has arrived. Patricia wraps herself in a cloak and leaves her home to survey the extent of the destruction – it seems as though Lord Flexington had decided to blow up Statistics Shanty. He couldn’t have found a more fitting location, since the place has been empty ever since a giant carved…something…had plummeted from the sky and reduced the previous owner to a bloody smear on the ground. “Where is Cleric Zed?” Patricia asks the first passerby she sees, which happens to be the unreasonably attractive Maya. Why must such good-looking people constantly assail her eyes?

The other woman looks down at her. “He’s probably in his shop.” Maya continues on her way, and Patricia paces back and forth aggressively before finally deciding to go visit the apothecary.

There are a few people gathered around the main entrance and when she walks inside, Patricia gets her first glimpse of Zed. He’s bent over a patient’s burnt shoulder and carefully applying salve before reaching for a few strips of linen to use as a bandage…she recognizes the bandages as pieces of the robe that had unraveled when he’d fallen out of his own window. Patricia wonders if she should announce her presence somehow, but Zed seems to feel her staring at him and turns to look right at her. The expression on his face would have sent most other people running for cover but after the first instant of recognition, Zed lets his gaze slide right past her as if she’s not there at all.

Zed steadfastly refuses to acknowledge her presence for the next two hours and Patricia feels like screaming aloud when his final patron leaves and he _still_ doesn’t speak to her. When she perches herself on the pallet he’d used to treat his patients, Zed calmly begins to pack up the bandages and burn ointments. When she tries to impede his progress by standing in front of him as he mops the floor, he moves around her. Speaking to him does no good and neither does touching him – he moves away from her hand as if he’s just remembered that he has urgent business on the other side of the room.

When he’s finished setting the place to rights Zed walks over to the front door and opens it, holding it open with one foot. Patricia folds her arms across her chest mutinously and sits down on the cot, not intending to leave so that they enter a spectacularly awkward stalemate. He seems to give in first after several long minutes, moving his foot and bolting the door shut…and walking right past her to the stairs when she’s sure that he’ll have to speak to her. Patricia huffs out an irritated breath and is halfway up the steps when she hears Zed bolt the door on the second landing.

She has just been locked inside Zed’s Apothecary for the night.

“Let me out,” Patricia yells furiously, pounding on the door. The only response is even _more_ of the silent treatment; the man is bound to have an aneurysm if he’s forced to restrain himself much longer, she’s sure of it. She sits down and leans against the door, suddenly determined to get some sort of noise out of him if it’s the last thing she does…so she takes a deep breath, and screams at the top of her lungs.

This doesn’t work.

Patricia changes her tactics after this, and bombards him with the theories she’s thought up since the first time they’d met. This includes some rather wild speculations on the exact placement of his sex organ, which could be anywhere, but it’s possibly concealed at the very tip of his tail between the fins. A loud slamming noise interrupts this idea and Patricia pauses in case Zed decides to open the door and boot her down the stairs, but silence falls once again so she’s forced to admit that he’d just knocked something off onto the floor accidentally. She talks aloud about how interesting it is that his excessive body hair seems to disappear when he’s in triton form, and discusses how grateful the whole of Pandora must be that Zed’s back isn’t as hirsute as his front.

 _Still_ nothing.

With nothing left in her arsenal but the truth, Patricia leans against the door and tells him about growing up in a family that hadn’t understood her. About refusing to follow the family trade and pursue her love of learning…and her inability to officially join the ranks of her chosen profession simply because of her gender. Patricia feels like she’s wasting her breath as she describes how much a detailed, consensual study of him will help her gain admittance into the alchemist guild.

Her voice trails off into the resounding silence because, really, there’s just no point in saying anything else. Well, there’s the admission that she’s the reason why he’s here right now, but Patricia isn’t sure that sharing this information is a good idea. She’s growing hoarse, anyway.

She turns her head so that her ear is right at the crack just above the lower hinge, and it’s so quiet that she could swear that she hears Zed breathing on the other side of the door. “There…there is something else I should tell you,” Patricia finally says. “I told Lord Flexington to create an explosion large enough to draw you back to Flamerock Refuge, solely because I wished to convince you to allow me…access…to you during your time of change. I don’t count myself as a particularly sentimental person, but I actually find myself feeling _sorry_ that I have done this.”

Patricia is now positive that Zed is sitting with his back to the door listening to all of this, but he still doesn't say a word to her – the calm, even breaths continue almost as if he's fallen asleep. She's run out of things to say at last, and he remains unmoved by any of it…it would be for the best if she forgot she'd ever stumbled across him to begin with. Patricia climbs to her feet and slowly walks back down the steps to the pallet upon which he'd treated those who had been injured simply because she'd wished to make something of herself. It would be easy to convince herself that it doesn't really matter because no one died, and if Zed had just been nicer she wouldn't have had to resort to such measures to get his attention, but Patricia has to face the truth.

She takes off her cloak and spreads it across the pallet, then lies down and flips the trailing edge of it over herself. In the morning he’ll most likely open the door for her once more, and this time she'll leave….after that, all she'll have to do is to think of another way to make the Dahl Brotherhood accept her. There has to be a way, after all, and Patricia knows that she's smart enough to find it. 

Patricia's busily thinking of possible ideas when sleep overtakes her, but she wakes immediately at the sound of a muted _click_. She's momentarily disoriented upon finding herself in a strange place, the memory of it coming back when she opens her eyes to stare up at the ceiling. To one side of her, Patricia can hear the soft sounds of Zed walking down the stairs in the darkness, and shams sleep as he pauses beside her. She looks up at him through her lashes and watches him gaze down at her, barely catching her instinctive flinch as Zed abruptly drops to a crouch at her side.

He leans in to inspect her, close enough so that she can feel his breath on her cheek and smell the scent of his skin. Patricia can also see what a lovely shade of green his eyes are, not that _that's_ important at all. Zed lifts his hand and she almost forgets to breathe as he makes to brush a strand of hair from her forehead, but stops mid-motion and changes the gesture into drawing a fold of her cloak up over her shoulders instead. Patricia’s skin prickles at his soft exhalation and she fakes restlessness so that she doesn’t have the temptation to open her eyes.

Zed stays still for another handful of seconds, and then she hears him stand up and move towards the front entrance. Another soft click as he unlocks the door and steps through it; then Patricia is finally able to open her eyes when the door closes behind him. She draws her cloak around her shoulders and follows. There’s barely enough light outside for her to see because the moon hasn’t yet properly risen, but she can trail him easily enough. He skirts the buildings to avoid the light of the bonfires and leads her through the mountain, down to the Unassuming Docks and along the Unrelatively Unvisited Shoreline.

Patricia sneaks along behind him, wondering what on earth he’s doing, but she finds herself thrilled to her very soul when Zed finally stops near one of the crumbling stone ruins and begins to disrobe. She watches with baited breath as he peels off his tunic, revealing that spectacularly muscled torso that has taken center stage – along with another impressive part of Zed’s anatomy - in some highly questionable dreams of late. His hands fall to the ties of his trousers and she leans forward in anticipation when Zed lifts his head. “So you _can_ be quiet when you wanna be. Get on over here.”

“How did you know I was here?” she demands, walking forward.

Zed turns to look at her. “The droolin' was way too loud for it to be anyone but you.” He reaches out for his discarded tunic and shrugs back into it. “Any particular reason you were peepin’, or did you just wanna get a good look at _what everyone else has already had?_ ”

“You were sneaking about like a common thief,” Patricia says, feeling her face flush at the sarcastic repetition of the words she’d used against him. “What if you had truly been one?”

He looks patently unimpressed. “So you thought you’d follow this thief and watch ‘em get undressed, is that it? Look, lady, just…just leave me alone an’ let me have my swim.” Patricia quickly suggests that _she_ wants the very same thing and he’s simply in the same place. “You wanted to swim. _You_ wanted to _swim_ – am I hearin’ this right?”

“That is what I just said, yes.”

Zed looks down at her, and the corners of his mouth twitch. “Okay, then; swim.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, don’t let the walkin’ pile of _used goods_ stand in your way! You wanna swim, you just go right ahead. Hell, I’ll join ya. We can have us a _race_.”

Patricia opens her mouth to fire off another salvo in this war that they’ve declared on each other, but she gets a good look at his face and realizes why he’s antagonizing her…. _this_ time, anyway. “You know that I do not know how to swim, don’t you.”

“You betcha, sweetheart.” Zed tilts his head. “Want me to teach you?”

She’s expecting more verbal abuse, not anything like _this_. “Why would you possibly want to-”

Zed holds up his hand and begins to curl his fingers towards his palm. “Offer expires in five…four…three…”

“Okay,” Patricia says hurriedly. “I accept.”

“Y’know, neither of us can go in there with our clothes on,” Zed muses. “You’d have to go to the water bare as a baby. ‘Course, if you can’t _handle_ that…”

She immediately begins to remove her boots. "There will have to be ground rules."

"I'm sure there are. Let's hear 'em, woman."

"First," she says, shaking her finger in his face, "You will no longer address me as 'woman' or 'lady.'"

"You got it, Princess."

Patricia pinches the bridge of her nose and does a quick breathing exercise, praying for the strength not to murder him. "Second, we will undress back-to-back. Once I am sure you are facing the other way, I will enter the water first."

"Y'know, you're makin' a lot of demands for someone who's actually gettin' a _favor_ from me. Seems like I get to make some rules too – it's only fair," Zed insists, and smiles when she's forced to agree. "Rule three says that whatever you do to me, I get to do right back… you wanna grab on me, I get a handful of _you_. You decide to run your mouth 'bout how I look without no clothes? Well, guess the hell _what_."

While she's certain that this rule could lead to a great deal of trouble, Patricia has to admit that it sounds fair enough. She's sure that she can control her mental filter before saying something that she'll regret. "Agreed. Now if we can get on with-"

"Whoa now, Princess. I ain't done yet; you get two rules, I get two. We're all about playin' fair these days, ain't we?" he laughs. "Rule the fourth, honey – when we're out there in the water, you do what I tell you no matter what." When she quite rightfully complains at this Zed reminds her that, out of the two of them, he's the only one who actually knows how to swim.

Patricia gnaws on her bottom lip. "I will agree as long as your commands are nothing unreasonable, such as demanding that I grant you sexual favors."

"Oh, c'mon now, _surely_ you can resist the seductive charms of the village hobby horse – everyone's already taken a turn, remember? I'm just so damned tired from all them free rides I been givin' to anyone who looks at me sideways!"

They glare at each other before Patricia lifts her hand and makes a circling gesture with her index finger. "I suggest we get on with it before my nausea gets the better of me."

"There's a better part?" Zed asks, but turns around just the same.

She strips hurriedly, aware that he's undressing a great deal more slowly – of course, he's closer to being fully nude _right behind her_. Patricia can practically feel his body heat, and the desire to lean back and feel all that bare, warm skin against her is nearly overwhelming. How interesting that she can be surrounded by all this water and her throat is still so dry. Patricia removes her undergarments and presses her hand over her left breast to feel the hammering of her heart before taking several deep breaths to calm down. She can do this, Patricia tells herself, and decides that it can't hurt to sneak a quick peek behind her….just to see if his backside is as nicely shaped as she remembers.

It definitely is, Patricia discovers, and when she finishes admiring his buttocks she glances up to see that he's been doing the very same thing. "Turn around," she hisses.

" _You_ turn around," he says stubbornly.

"I am going into the water and, as per our _agreement_ , you will not be staring at me."

"You looked first."

"I highly doubt it."

"This's when I remind you that I don't gotta teach you _nothin',_ " Zed points out. There's a slight but repetitive splashing noise, which she identifies as him tapping his foot in the shallows. "Get your tush in there, then."

"Don't tell me what to do," Patricia complains.

"Um, hello? Rule four?"

"We're not in the water-" Zed stomps hard enough to splash them both. "This doesn't count."

He makes a noncommittal noise. "Alrighty then, I'm goin' in alone. Catch ya later, crazy lady."

"I told you not to call me that," Patricia yells as he charges off into the water, and Zed yells back a reminder that the rules are only valid for swimming lessons. She looses another enraged scream, he _laughs_ at her, and she decides that she's going into the water to catch him. Patricia's not too sure what she's going to do with Zed once she gets him, but she's sure she'll think of something. Whatever it's going to be, it'll serve him right.

She picks her way through the broken shells, pebbles, and pottery shards. The moon has risen, just a sliver from being complete, but despite the abundance of light Patricia can't see where Zed has gone to. She's waist deep in the surprisingly warm water when a hand closes around her ankle and yanks her off balance. Patricia topples backwards, her flailing arms sending a plume of water flying straight up into the air. She struggles upright and crouches so that her breasts are covered, glaring around, but he's nowhere to be seen.

Fingers walk up her knee and Patricia slaps at the water angrily. "Stop it!" Zed swims off and comes back to poke the calf of her leg, making her knees buckle, and she's so irritated that she's fully ready to grab something of _his_. Patricia braces her legs and narrows her eyes, waiting for Zed to circle around; the moment she sees the slightest hint of bare skin, she plunges her hand down into the water.

He shoots out of the water so quickly, his thrashing limbs nearly hit her in the face. " _Hey!_ "

"I thought you were going to teach me how to swim, not grope to your heart's content," she says, and wonders what exactly she'd squeezed that is making him so red-faced. "Was that your penis?"

" _What?_ My…? _No_. What? That's just…nonsense."

"It _was!_ " Patricia can't believe she'd had it right in her hand and didn't even know it.

" _I_ can't believe you actually said that out loud," Zed says sourly, then does a double-take. "Waiiiiit just a damn _minute_. You just said you were in here for lessons."

Patricia realizes that she's been standing up with her bare breasts out of the water, and claps her hands over them. "Well, yes. Wh- oh, no. _No_ ," she shouts as he begins to swim closer. "That did _not_ count! You started it."

Zed grins, green eyes alight with an unholy joy as he reaches for her. "Rule _three_ , sweet thing." Zed lunges and Patricia screams, slapping him in the face and attempting to make her escape in less than two feet of water. She flounders back and splashes down, trying to smack his hands away because he hadn't made it clear _where_ he was intending to touch her. "Stay…still," he grunts, making another grab that she evades by placing her feet on his stomach and pushing him away.

The ridiculousness of their situation finally hits home as Patricia locks her elbow with one hand on his cheek, holding him at arm's length. He's had ample opportunity to grab any number of her body parts, but has pointedly _not_ done so. As soon as she puts her arm down, Zed looks at her and starts to laugh. "It's not funny," Patricia tries to say indignantly, but her own composure is faltering by the second. Then she's laughing too because the whole thing is just so ludicrous, and it feels good to actually have some common ground with a man who seems to view her as his arch-nemesis. 

He looks even more handsome when he's in a decent mood, Patricia notices. Their laughter dies down into a comfortable silence, and she watches Zed tip his head back into the water so that his hair lies flat on his skull. "You seem to float okay," he says finally, "But you gotta be able to do it reliably – let's go on out further and see how well you do."

"How…how _much_ further?" Patricia asks hesitantly.

"Neck deep's just fine," Zed says, extending a hand to her. "C'mon." She takes his hand and allows him to lead her into deeper water, where he explains how feeling at ease in the water and relaxing will help her learn faster. “If you’re always worried that you’re gonna drown…guess what? You’re probably gonna drown ‘cause you don’t trust yourself enough to do what needs doin’.”

When he directs her to take a deep breath and actually _lie down_ on the surface of the water, Patricia shakes her head. “No. No, I can’t do that! First of all, I’ll-”

“…drown?”

She bites her lip. “I see your meaning. Secondly, I do not think it is appropriate for you to be…I will be above the water with no clothing while you will be below it.”

“You come chargin’ after me ‘thout those clothes you’re so worried about, and _now_ you’re worried I’ll get an eyeful? Princess, I’ve already seen you butt naked…hell, if you’re that het up, I promise I won’t look.”

Patricia considers this carefully, and then nods her agreement. “So, I just take a deep _breath_?”

“Yup.” Zed slides one of his arms behind her shoulders and rests his other hand on Patricia’s stomach, which immediately begins to feel like she’s just swallowed scythid larvae. “I gotcha, just relax.” She follows his instructions and yelps in fright as Zed flips her onto her back. “Hold the air in your lungs; that’s what’s keepin’ you up.”

She experiments with holding her breath and letting it out, realizing (with a decent amount of embarrassment) that this is something she should have already known. It’s common knowledge that air is lighter than water, and she’s done numerous experiments on floating objects, but Patricia has just never tried it out on _herself_. She hadn’t grown up in a village near any kind of water. “Fascinating,” Patricia says, looking up at him. True to his word, Zed’s eyes are fixed upon hers, and she finds herself remembering how close they’d been to experiencing a kiss together. She wouldn’t mind trying it again. “Zed…?”

He drags his gaze from hers and looks up at the moon, clearing his throat. “Yeah.”

“Have you taught many people to swim?”

Zed’s brow furrows with displeasure. “Aw, fer- will ya _quit_ it?”

“Quit what?”

“Quit actin’ like I’m the town whore. You don’t know nothin’ ‘bout me,” he says, taking his hands away and letting her flounder around until she’s back on her feet. “Y’don’t… _know_ , okay, so stop actin’ like you do. I don’t like it.”

Zed looks out over the water, and Patricia can tell that he’s moments away from swimming away from her. She reaches out for him, wondering why he seems to flinch when her hands brush his side. “How many times _have_ you availed yourself of the services that Moxxi provides?”

“Why the hell’s that s’posed to be important?” Zed demands. 

“It stands to reason that if you do not wish to be thought of as a slattern, you would confess the regularity of your patronage.” Patricia looks up at him thoughtfully. “If you’re that worried about what _I_ think of you…”

His mouth compresses to a thin line. “I guess you’re gonna tell me how you’re so virtuous that you ain’t never gotten off within a ten mile radius of a dick before.”

“Well…yes,” Patricia says. “There isn’t exactly an overwhelming number of sexually appetizing prospects flooding the streets of Flamerock Refuge, in case you haven’t been paying attention.”

Zed’s staring at her as if she’s just grown a set of antlers, as well as another eye. “Whoa. _Whoa._ Time _out_. You’re…you’re tellin’ me that you ain’t _never-?_ ”

“Of course not.”

“I mean, you’re a – a _virgin?_ Like, for real? You’re an actual, real live _virgin._ For _real?_ ” Zed lifts both his hands to rub at his temples, squinting at her in disbelief. “No frickin’ way.”

Patricia’s not sure why he’s getting so worked up about it. “My virginity hardly makes me a different species.”

“Well, why the _hell’s_ someone like you out here in the middle of the dang night? _Naked_. Naked with _me._ " He starts looking around wildly, and she seizes his wrist in both of her hands so he can't escape. 

"You haven't answered my question."

Zed tries to pry her fingers off of him, and she uses the motion to slide her hands further up his arm. She simply can't understand why he's so flustered upon discovering that she's never had sex before. "Why's someone like you wanna know about that kinda thing?"

"I am not a _Pandoracorn_ , Zed!" He mumbles something about her being a _baby_ Pandoracorn for some reason. "To be quite honest, I have been seriously considering granting _you_ sexual favors-"

" _Me?_ " Zed interrupts, his eyes going wide with panic. "No. Ohhhh, no. Nuh-uh, no freakin' way, _no_. Oh, Tina help me. This can't be happenin'."

Patricia releases his arm, feeling hurt stab into her like a blade. "I hadn't realized the depth of your revulsion for me," she says faintly.

He ducks beneath the water and she can vaguely hear him yelling at the top of his lungs. There is an impressive amount of bubbles that rise to the surface. Zed pops back up, still looking wild-eyed. "That ain't what I meant," he explains, clawing at his hair desperately. "Oh, Goddess Almighty."

"What _did_ you mean, then?" Patricia asks, feeling the telltale prickling of tears behind her eyelids as she looks away. She doesn't think she's ever felt so utterly humiliated.

Zed covers his face with his hands and breathes in noisily before he drops his hands to look at her. "You been teasin' me somethin' awful, an' I'm over here thinkin' that once I get you to…to…uh, _make good_ on your teasin', I could just go about my business." 

Patricia shrugs. "To be fair, I have been feeling the same way. I may not have the physical experience, but I am well versed in the experience of sexual as well as romantic attraction. I have several scrolls which detail the sex act, so I have never before felt as though I were 'missing' a single thing."

"Scrolls. You know all about fuckin' from a _scroll_ -"

"Don't be vulgar."

"Sorry. But, _scrolls._ " This informational tidbit has served quite nicely to derail his mounting panic over…mounting. Patricia decides to save this witticism to share with him later after he's calmed down. "So, uh…maybe once every other month." She raises her eyebrows at him and he rubs the back of his neck, not looking at her. "That's how often I, um. Do stuff. With someone else. If they wanna."

"Oh." She's more than a little surprised; surely he would take his ease much more often. "Don't you want to have sexual intercourse on a more regular basis?"

Zed glares at her. "What the hell d'you think? You think just anyone's gonna let a man with a damn _tail_ into their bed? You think they'd be just fine with lettin' me keep my clothes on all the time? You're a damned fool if you think _any_ of that!"

"I've seen you nude on multiple occasions, so I don't understand why-"

"Two." He holds up the appropriate amount of fingers, and is getting extremely upset for some reason. "First time on that blimp, you just wouldn't leave me alone – just had t'keep botherin' me. I only did it so you'd get away from me, maybe feel half as embarrassed. This time, it ain't like I invited you! You were gettin' in my face, wouldn't leave me alone and that seems to be a theme for you, don't it. You wouldn't get outta my place, so I locked you in and figured I'd give you a chance to leave later on…and here you come, followin' me _again_."

"I simply do not see why you should be ashamed of anything," Patricia says in surprise. "You have an absolutely magnificent body."

"Well, good on you for likin' it so damned much! Let's get you a medal or somethin'." Zed lifts an arm up and digs his opposing fingers into it viciously. "It ain't _me_. None of it's _mine_ , don't you get that? You really think I want anyone else lookin' at somethin' that disgusts me so much? Only reason I'm out here now… _Tina!_ Full moon's tomorrow, an' I want it to be tomorrow _right now_ 'cause I just can't stand bein' trapped in this body any longer. I only get to be me for two days. For two days, everything's like it's s'posed to be – it's _perfect_ \- but then I'm back to…to _this_ , an' I just wanna die. But hey, Patricia Tannis thinks it's _magnificent_ so it's all fine now." He exhales shakily. "I gotta go."

This time, she doesn't try to stop him from leaving.


	7. Horny on the High Seas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Zed's time of the month, and Tannis wouldn't miss it for the world.

The countdown to moonrise nearly drives Zed insane – he knows that it's only a wait of a few hours at this point, but it's still so hard to endure. Time slows down to a crawl while he's waiting to regain his true form, and speeds up when he's forced to relinquish it two days later. It doesn't help that he has plenty to occupy his mind while he waits for the moon to clear the horizon, even though Zed always finds himself in dire need of distraction.

He hasn't seen her since he'd left her standing up to her neck in the ocean, and Zed isn't sure how that's supposed to make him feel. If she’d wandered off and gotten herself drowned, he should have heard about it by now. He doesn’t have time for guilt, and even less use for it. The woman always seems to be able to twist him up inside over nothing at all - _she_ was the one who’d kept after him and wouldn’t let up until he’d told her the truth. There’s no reason why he should feel bad for telling her exactly what she wanted to know, but Zed guesses that part of it is simple regret at having done so. 

Pain stabs through his legs suddenly, and he has to grab at the nearest solid surface to keep from falling. Zed grits his teeth and forces his unwanted feet to walk towards a fallen tree so that he can sit down. Tannis probably thinks he’s the most pathetic excuse for a man she’s ever come across, and right now he certainly feels like it. Shame also isn’t anything he has time for, but there’s always plenty of it forcing its way into his thoughts…just as it’s doing right now.

What was she _thinking_ , telling him that she’s a virgin? Why does she have to be a virgin, anyway? Here he is, lusting after her like he’s fresh out of puberty and wanting to climb her like a tree in the hopes that he’ll get her out of his system, but now she’s gone and dropped the mother of all stink bombs on him. If Zed had needed any more proof that life is absolutely unfair, this is it. A small voice in the back of his head keeps trying to suggest that this is actually a good thing…because how will Tannis ever get the hands-on experience she needs if he doesn’t go ahead and volunteer for it? “Shut up,” he growls, dropping his head into his hands. No, that’s the _last_ thing he needs – it’s a well-known fact that female virgins are so clingy that they give barnacles a run for their eridium. _Everyone_ know that.

Zed looks up at the sky in case the moon’s gotten any higher since the last time he looked thirty seconds ago. 

It hasn’t.

He pushes himself to his feet and limps further into the water, stopping when another spasm of agony rips through him. Zed takes several deep breaths and tries to distance himself from the pain by thinking of what he’s planning to do when the curse lifts – he hasn’t seen Ned for a while, so maybe he should go visit…and spend the whole time arguing over his brother’s lifestyle choices. So maybe not. If all he wants is to get irritated over _that_ sort of thing, he could just go spend ten minutes with Ted. 

Zed looks over his shoulder to make sure nobody is following him this time and isn’t sure if he wants to find Tannis back there or not. He feels unreasonably disappointed when she’s not.

When he’s far enough from shore to safely do so, Zed hauls himself up on one of the half-buried ruins and starts to remove his clothing. This particular column is tall enough to keep his belongings safe until he returns to them two days from now, because he’d brought out a hammer and chisel to chip out a deep enough crevice inside the cracked masonry. Zed peels off his tunic and carefully wraps two ampoules of medicine inside it before tucking it inside the hiding place, then tucks his sandals and waterlogged breeches in the opposite corner. Once he’s satisfied that everything will stay put, he drops down into the water and lets the current pull him farther from land.

This particular current sweeps around the base of the cliffs that Flamerock Refuge is built upon, so all Zed has to worry about is keeping enough air in his lungs and trust it to take him around to the entrance of his underwater cave. He can feel the undertow tugging at his legs, trying to yank him beneath the surface – it would be a fine piece of irony to actually meet his end by _drowning_ \- but Zed pulls away from it easily and checks the horizon again. There’s just the slightest hint of brightness now, but if he’s timed it right he should be down in the safety of his grotto before the change.

He keeps an eye on the rock formations as he’s swept back towards land – just overhead is one of the new rope bridges that mark Zed’s approach to his cave. As soon as he passes beneath it, Zed takes a deep breath and dives beneath the water. He swims down until his lungs start burning, but suppresses the urge to go back up to the surface for air since he’s only a few feet away from the rock ledge that keeps his cave hidden. Zed ducks beneath it and kicks up to the surface, forcing himself not to gasp for air as a human would; he breathes deeply and hauls himself up onto the rock.

The pain he’s been trying so hard to ignore hits him full-force now that there’s nothing left to distract him – part of the curse is feeling the change rearrange his bones, though ‘rearrange’ is a tame word compared to what actually happens to him. The Handsome Sorcerer could have just pointed that staff at Zed and had the change occur instantly but, as was always the case, his cruelty had wanted to make the process slow and agonizing…so Zed is forced to suffer through the pain of the bones in his legs breaking and shifting back into his normal skeletal structure. He’s hard-pressed to decide what part of it hurts the worst physically– changing from human to triton, or back again.

Zed digs his fingers into the ledge and chokes back a yell as he feels his legs slowly begin to fuse together. There are plenty of things he should be thinking about, such as whether or not he’s gathered enough food for his two days underwater or checking the grotto to make sure the water’s been circulating properly, but Zed fixes his thoughts on Patricia Tannis instead. She’s the first woman to actually _want_ him, knowing exactly what he is…the whole virgin thing is off-putting as hell, but it’s so _easy_ to imagine making love to her. Despite knowing he shouldn’t, Zed concentrates on imagining exactly that since the bones in his legs feel like they’re being pulverized and he’ll be damned if he spends his last few minutes as a human male whimpering like a child.

Actively summoning such imagery, instead of having it torment his dreams, is all that makes the last phase of Zed’s change bearable. He rolls onto his stomach and presses his forehead against the cool stone, thinking of how soft her body is and how she’d welcome him in either form. She might even _prefer_ him as a triton. Zed’s never been in any sort of sexual situation with a partner as a triton before – his is a dying breed and if his brothers hadn’t left, he’s not sure what would have happened. Their parents had warned them of it early on, of course, but even _they_ hadn't known what course nature might take…all they’d relayed were vague warnings and superstition that Zed, Ted, and Ned had been all too willing to believe. The only thing any of the warnings had in common was that they’d regret whatever would happen to them if they continued to share the same living area for too long. Zed doesn’t really think any of them would actually _change into an undine_ due to the unavailability of a mate; his worries had been firmly rooted in the belief that, if any of them actually _found_ a lifemate, the others might kill him for it or decide to assault the undine in question in either jealousy or an attempt to breed her. Of course, these fears have been proven to be baseless since neither Ned nor himself have the slightest bit of interest in Ted’s mate. Ned’s gone and gotten himself a set of legs, and has never once looked back at the sea with any sort of fondness.

He’s alone, and most of the time he _likes_ it that way, but now he’s started thinking of how it would be to share his life with someone else who isn't related to him. Unfortunately for Zed, this hypothetical mate wears Patricia Tannis’ face. It really _is_ too easy to imagine drawing her into the water and thoroughly relieving her of her virginity. He can’t even remember the last time he was able to engage in sex with a willing partner and actually take his time, simply because Zed feels so uncomfortable in human form, but the thought of doing so with Tannis is nearly overwhelming. She doesn’t seem like she’d be hesitant at all, first time or not. Alchemists are a curious bunch by nature, and Zed wouldn't mind letting her explore to her heart's content.

He grits his teeth against a fresh wave of pain as his tail finally begins to take shape, and Zed wipes the cold sweat off his forehead. Only a few more minutes before he can begin to recover; Zed can only fully heal himself when he’s in his natural form. He closes his eyes so that he doesn’t have to see the scales growing from his flesh until they form the interlocking armor strong enough to withstand a skillfully cast spear. His transformation is finally complete and he spends several moments catching his breath – deep lungfuls of air that aren’t accompanied by excess pain. Zed draws on his magic, feeling it dissipate the full body ache that always sets in after he’s changed, and then drops down into the water.

Zed spends an hour circling the base of the cliffs that house Flamerock Refuge, just because he can, and then heads out to sea for a while. He doesn’t have any particular port in mind; it just feels good to be able to be able to swim like this again. There _is_ that shipwreck he’ll need to visit at least once before his time is up – Zed’s trade is a decent one, but there’s that tile that needs replacing and probably more than one repair to be made to his shop. It’s amazing how the workmen always find so much else that’s wrong when they’re brought in for just one little task.

He stops by the shipwreck sooner rather than later, because he’s remembered that Tannis is wild about eridium and she might like him a little better if he brought her some. It’s not really _bribery_ since she’s apparently already geared up to jump into bed with him…it’s more of an apology for the way his mouth always seems to run right off without him whenever she breathes in his general area. He’ll most likely mess up when he delivers it to her, so Zed figures he should probably just lob it at her from a safe distance and get out of there while the getting’s good.

It probably won’t even end up like the last time he threw something at her.

Hopefully.

No. He’s going to have to talk to her, and use words, and everything. _Damn_ it!

Zed’s starting to regret having envisioned her… _with_ … him because he just knows that’s all he’ll be able to think about when they’re face-to-face. He could just wait to give her the stuff, sure, but she might chase him and he just can’t run that fast. She could catch him and then she could start talking to him. Nobody would win in that particular situation. Of course, he won’t be able to give her anything (let alone a piece of his mind) if she’s not hanging around the water.

He surfaces behind one of the plinths that are scattered around the shallows of the Unassuming Docks and looks towards the beach, because there’s no way she would’ve wanted to miss seeing him like this, but he doesn’t see her anywhere. Zed hauls himself up at the base of the broken column wondering where she could be, idly fanning his tail through the water as he makes sure that no one _else_ is around either. The last thing he needs is one of those Dahl goons charging at him with a harpoon…well, at least that way he wouldn’t need to worry about finding a mate anymore. 

There are the usual amount of drifting haunted canoes, but Zed’s not worried about those - they're only a problem if you try to catch one and try to get inside it. The memory of the first time he’d done so is still vivid enough that he still feels vaguely embarrassed whenever he sees one of the damned things. He’s reasonably sure no one had seen him leap out of there like his tail was on fire. The memory of being chased by one of those damned enchanted skeletons makes Zed shake his fist at the closest boat with a curse.

“You are a joy to be around in whatever form you inhabit,” Patricia Tannis says from _right behind him_ , because of _course_ she has to be there, and Zed claws at the column in a frantic effort to keep from sliding right off into the water. “What _are_ you doing? Is it some sort of triton behavioral mannerism?”

Zed gives up and falls into the sea with all the grace of a drunken Orc, then resurfaces to aim a glare at her. “You scared the scales right offa me! What’re you doin’ out here sneakin’ around?” he yells, squeezing the eridium shard in his hand so hard that he feels the edges dig into his skin. _Don’t throw it at her nose, don’t throw it at her nose_ …

She reaches up to adjust her goggles. "I have something I want to give to you."

"What, an ulcer? You already gave me about twelve of 'em," Zed grumbles, but moves closer when she beckons to him. It looks like she's borrowed a dinghy to come harass him… either that or she just straight up _stole_ it, which kind of seems more likely. 

"You must come _closer_ than that," she chides him, messing with her goggles again. It's no wonder she lost them in the water if she can't keep her hands off of them – does she ever actually _wear_ the things?

Zed sighs and comes right up to the side of her little boat, hooking one arm over the side but keeping the hand that's holding her gift out of sight. "Fine, I'm here. What'd you wanna give me?"

Tannis scoots over in front of him. "This," she says, grabbing his face in her hands and kissing every single rational thought right out of his head.

When she lets him up for air they both stare at each other for a minute while Zed tries to get his bearings and determine that, yes, that really _did_ just happen. “Uh,” is all he can say about it until she seizes him by the ears and brings him in for another kiss that makes him feel like his skin is five sizes too small. This time he has the presence of mind to actually kiss her back, bracing one arm against the side of the boat and wrapping the other one around her – her mouth is just as sweet as he'd thought it would be. "What, uh, what was that for?" Zed asks breathlessly as she ducks away a second time.

"That was to let you know that it does _not_ mean that I like you," Tannis says, "or anything."

"Well…that's good t'know," he replies, wondering just how angry she'd be if he simply yanked her overboard so that they can continue proving how much they despise each other.

Tannis (he should probably start calling her by her first name now) keeps her eyes on his mouth. "I should hope so. Why were you lurking about on the rocks?"

 _Lurking_. "It ain't lurkin' if I'm the one who lives here," Zed points out. "I got somethin' for you that I…well, I dropped it when you an' your lips were showin' me that you don't like me any."

"I don't."

"I _know_." Zed clears his throat and gestures towards the water. "I'll just, um, go an' get that thing. 'Cause I don't like you either."

She eyes him interestedly. "Will you show me how much, when you return?"

"Maybe." He gets out of there before she can distract him again with any more foolishness, because he's certain that she hasn't planned on losing her virginity in some leaky rowboat in the middle of the ocean. Zed tries not to think too hard about how his cave would be the perfect place for it; he's supposed to be watching where he's going. She probably doesn't even want him like this anyway – it's just his overactive imagination. He swims down until he finds what he'd dropped, thanking Tina that the stuff reflects light the way it does, and brings it back up to the surface.

Patricia is still there, waiting for him with an expectant look on her face. Her lips are actually puckered up as if they've just frozen in that position and Zed has to laugh at how ridiculous she looks. “What is that?” She demands, catching a glimpse of it before he dumps it into the bottom of her boat. “…this is _eridium!_ ”

“Well, yeah. You said you were studyin’ the stuff, right?”

She plops herself down right in the center of the boat, wrapping her hands around his gift and bringing it up to stare at it. "I've never seen a piece this size," Patricia says. "Where did you _find_ it?"

"Oh, that ain't nothin' – I could get you bigger pieces, no problem.”

Her eyeballs nearly pop right out of her head. “ _Bigger?_ There are _bigger_ pieces, where you found this one.”

“Sure are,” Zed confirms, wondering if this might be what finally makes her stop wanting to study him. He also wonders if that’s something he’d be okay with, especially since their first kiss was definitely something he wants more of. “It’s all down there, though, so I guess you’d need t’be real _nice_ to me if you wanted any more…not that you gotta have sex with me, ‘cause that ain’t what I meant at _all_ ,” Zed blurts out, abruptly realizing how he’d made that sound.

Patricia just looks at him. “But I would _like_ to have sex with you. Eridium would be a pleasant, but not entirely necessary, bonus.”

“Oh,” he says stupidly. “I don’t think that’s a, um, real great idea ‘cause like I told you last time-”

“I would greatly prefer that my introductory sexual experience be conducted with your assistance, and in your present form,” she says next, and reaches out to place her hand on his tail. Zed hadn’t even realized he’d looped it around the oar lock. “Your sexual anatomy is still compatible with mine, is it not?”

Zed feels a flush start to climb his neck. “I dunno; maybe. I mean, I guess so…? Could you maybe quit that?”

“Quit what?” she asks innocently, still fiddling with his tail and plucking at the scales.

“Y’know… _that_ ,” Zed tells her, trying to disengage himself from her grasp but the moment she feels movement her hands clamp down on him. “I ain’t used to nobody, um, _messin’_.”

She finally gets the picture that he doesn’t want her to touch his tail, though that isn’t exactly the whole truth – Zed wouldn’t really mind having her touch all of him for as long as she wants, but it’s been several years since anyone’s actually come into contact with his tail and he’s just not used to being touched. It’s a bit much to have her hands all over him when he’s grown accustomed to not having any physical contact at all. Patricia looks unbearably disappointed that she has to keep her hands to herself. “Where do you _live?_ ” she asks instead, giving his tail a sigh of farewell as Zed pulls it back into the water.

He actually has to concentrate hard to keep his tail from curling back up over the side of Patricia’s boat, because it’s like the damn thing has a mind of its own. “Where d’you _think_ I live, Dragon Keep? In the _water_ ,” Zed snaps, yanking his tail back down when a coil of it would go elsewhere.

“How do you breathe? Do you have gills, like a fish-”

“I ain’t a goddamn _fish!_ ” he howls at her, because it’s a lot easier to be angry than embarrass himself by being so needy that he can’t even control half of his own body.

Patricia isn’t fazed in the slightest at being yelled at, because she’s hit her stride. “Do you place a rock upon the end of your tail when you need to sleep? Do you have a _bed?_ Is the bed made of seaweed, or pirate treasure, or-”

“Why’n the _hell_ would I sleep on treasure, you fool of a wo- um, alchemist? I got a bed just like anybody an’ it’s in a cave right over there.” Zed jabs his finger in the appropriate direction.

“Is the cave completely submerged? How long can you survive above the surface? What is your bed made of? _Is_ it seaweed?” She pesters him with questions until the only thing he can think of to shut her up is to capsize her boat. Patricia hits the water with a loud splash and an even louder scream. 

Zed snags her before she can swallow too much water. “You talk way too damned much, Princess.” She gets even _cuter_ when she’s all wet, and it’s just about the furthest thing from fair he’s ever seen. “Someone oughta stop up that mouth of yours,” he murmurs. Patricia is clinging to him as if her life depends on it and Zed’s not sure if he’s ever had a more pleasant armful; she’s looking at him through those long lashes of hers, her lips are parted just _so_ , and nothing feels more natural than to duck his head to kiss her. 

Her legs wrap around him and his tail loops up to coil around _her_ , holding her close as their kiss becomes something heated and more than a little bit desperate. Patricia’s hands comb through his hair and grasp at his shoulders while Zed’s own hands slide down her spine to squeeze that absolutely amazing rear end. She moans into his mouth, giving him the courage to work one of his hands up under the hem of her shirt…well, he _tries_ to, anyway. What really happens is the clinging wet fabric stops his fingers from sliding any higher than her navel, though even that feels wonderful so Zed quite happily strokes the smooth skin of her belly. His fingertips encounter a thick ridge of scar tissue that he can’t really remember having seen before on the airship. 

Patricia flinches away from his touch, so he obediently moves his hand elsewhere – her ass is still right there and practically begging to be grabbed with both hands, so Zed does so and she wriggles back against him in approval. They come up for air and stare at each other, panting with one part exertion and five parts unbridled lust, and Zed starts to ask about the scar on her stomach when she leans in for another kiss. The next time their mouths separate, Zed moves his to her throat and licks the salt from her skin before biting down gently. Her arms wrap around his neck as he scatters kisses over the graceful column of her throat, sucking at her pulse point.

She arches back with a sigh and Zed brings the end of his tail up to support her. At this angle, her breasts are thrust out and though Patricia is still wearing all of her clothes, the wet fabric clings like a second skin. Zed draws his lower lip between his teeth, eyes fixed on the hard points of her nipples; leaning forward, he closes his mouth around one of them and sucks hard enough to make Patricia’s sighs deepen into a moan. “Z-Zed…!”

“Oh, honey. You’re so-” Zed breaks off as he realizes her trembling is actually shivering because he’s dumped her into the water at night, when it’s coldest, and keeping her half-submerged while he’s so horny he can barely think straight. She needs to get warmed up, and fast. “ _Dammit_. Um, I don’t suppose you got a fire somewhere along the shore.”

Patricia looks irritated that he’s stopped groping her, but she also looks like she’s about to shiver right out of her skin. “N-n-n-no, wh-whuh- _why_ would I h-have-”

“Tina Almighty,” Zed swears. “Imma have to take you…somewhere, an’ you’re probably gonna flip your wig about it, but there ain’t much of a choice here.” Her teeth have started chattering so loudly, he’s surprised nobody from Flamerock Refuge has come to see what’s making all that racket. “Just…just hang on, okay? Take the deepest breath you can,” he says.

She takes a pathetic little gulp of air, and Zed wraps his arms around her tightly before diving down into the water. His tail uncoils to propel them into the current as quickly as possible; despite her best efforts to stay calm, Patricia is starting to panic and he knows it’s only a matter of time before her mouth opens in a vain attempt to breathe. Zed seals his mouth over hers and reaches up to pinch her nose shut, which makes her _really_ start panicking, but he holds her too tightly for her to slip out of his arms. Patricia slowly realizes that he’s actually giving her the air she needs and Zed keeps them still so that she can match her breathing to his – once she relaxes enough to hold the air into her own lungs, he gives her warning before drawing away and continuing to swim.

It’s a lot easier to steer through the current now that he’s in his true form, though it takes twice as long with someone else along for the ride. She’s plainly not comfortable with the situation, but she’s handling it a lot better than most people would. When she needs to breathe, Patricia pats his face so he knows to stop and share his oxygen with her; the rest of the time, she just hides her face against his chest.

When they surface inside Zed’s grotto, she’s feeling too cold and too sick to appreciate anything about it. Zed’s feeling too upset and guilty to care about anything but making her feel better. Patricia huddles on the rock floor, too drained by her experience to even shiver anymore and when she tries to speak to him the words just won’t come out. “Hang _on_ , okay?” Zed repeats, lifting himself out of the water next to her and drawing her into his arms. Her skin feels rubbery and is starting to take on a bluish tinge, so he doesn’t waste time in shoving his hands beneath her clothing and calling up his magic.

Zed hasn’t attempted this particular type of healing in a long time, and for a very good reason – the last time he’d tried it, he’d nearly killed his patient by heating their blood too quickly. He concentrates on the area closest to her heart, gently probing to stimulate blood flow and slowly bringing up her body temperature. Once he’s sure that her heart won’t stop altogether, Zed yanks off her boots and curls his fingers around her feet to make certain she won’t lose any toes due to poor circulation. After that, he moves to her hands and then carefully removes her wet clothes. “Wha…? Wh’doin’,” Patricia babbles.

“Just warmin’ you up,” Zed explains. “I ain’t gonna do… _that_.”

Her head lolls to the side. “…’m cold.”

“I know, honey. Just relax,” he says, curling around her. 

Patricia sighs wearily and moves her head to rest it on his bicep. “ _Fish_.”

“You just hush your sassy mouth,” Zed replies, smiling into her hair. He can feel it when she falls asleep against his chest, and he fights back the yawn that threatens to stretch his jaw. The day’s exertions catch up with him when he unconsciously mimics her slow, even breaths.

Some time later, he rises to consciousness to find that the irritating alchemist has recovered fully from her exposure to the elements. Patricia’s body is enticingly warm and still completely nude – if he were still human, they’d definitely be in a compromising (and completely embarrassing) position, but as a triton he’s free to enjoy it without any wayward appendages signaling his interest. Still, _something_ feels good and Zed’s not entirely sure what’s happening until he realizes that she's slowly drawing the spines at the tip of his tail through her fingers. She’s also got a firm grip on the more delicate membranes of his fins, which hurt like hell if bruised or torn, so he’ll have to announce his wakefulness carefully. 

_Very_ carefully.

Zed shifts slightly and sighs, hoping that she’ll get the message and stop fondling him like her life depends on it.

She doesn’t get the message, so he sighs louder.

Still nothing.

“ _Um_.”

“This marks the third time you’ve almost murdered me,” Patricia says. “I am entitled to touch whatever I want to.”

“Y’don’t see me grabbin’ your ass right now, so you can just let go of me.” 

“ _You_ are the one who whisked the clothing right off of me as if you had a right to do so,” she continues, “so _I_ am going to examine your lower body as long as I feel like it. Now, what are these for?”

Zed grinds his teeth together and restrains the impulse to ‘whisk’ her back into the water. What _is_ it about her that makes him want to mate with her one moment and throttle her the next? It can’t just be the Pandoracorn dilemma, surely. “Let’s see, here. I was born with ‘em and I live in water, so I’m gonna go out on a limb an’ say they’re for swimming. Jeez!”

She twists in his arms to look up into his face, making sure she still has a handful of fin. “What does ‘jeez’ mean? I have heard several people say that very thing.”

“…what?”

“Jeez.”

Zed struggles to organize his thoughts because it’s hard to concentrate on anything but her bare breasts pressing against his chest and her thighs... _don’t think about it, do_ not _think about it_. “What about it?” 

“What does it _mean?_ ” Patricia asks impatiently.

“Oh. Uh, it’s…it’s some Elpisian thing. They don’t know about Tina over there, so they got some dude named Jeez. He’s got a beard and wears sandals, turns water into beer or somethin’.”

She frowns up at him cutely. Every little thing she does is cute. She probably even looks adorable horking up her dinner when she’s got the stomach flu, Zed thinks to himself despairingly. “That doesn’t seem very plausible. _Sandals?_ ”

Zed’s of the opinion that when a person’s chosen deity is a foul-mouthed teenage girl with a lazy eye, they don’t have much room to judge. “I guess it takes all kinds. You all warmed up now, or what.”

Patricia’s eyes narrow. “How _did_ you do that? I don’t see any blankets.”

“Or seaweed? Maybe I just warmed up all that pirate treasure in the sun and brought it down here t’heat up my special li’l mermaid hidey hole-”

“Don’t be an ass,” she warns him, “Or else I shall have to show my severe displeasure by attaching my lips to yours.”

She sounds so serious about it, Zed can’t help but laugh. “That’d probably just encourage me.” He can feel his tail start coiling around her as if of its own volition, but decides to just let it happen. If she doesn’t want him doing it, she’ll have to say so. “I dunno, that’s just…part of what I do. Well, what we _all_ do – most of us are healers.”

Patricia stares at him, looking absolutely fascinated and in no way creeped out that she’s being wrapped up in someone’s scales. “So there _are_ more of you!”

He shrugs. “Well, sure. I didn’t just appear outta nowhere now, did I? My brothers and me-”

“You have _brothers!_ ” she screeches at him. “Where are they, how many are there, what do they look like, and _when_ can I meet them?”

“Okay, first off? Quit interruptin’ me when I’m tryin’ to say somethin’ rude to you. Nothin’ kills a good one-liner quite like an interruption! Yeah, I got two of ‘em. You don’t need to meet either one, ‘cause you just don’t need to. You also don’t need t’know where they are ‘cause like I just said, you _don’t need to meet ‘em._ ”

Patricia looks riled up about it, but he couldn’t care less. Zed shoots down her next few questions about any remaining ‘water dwelling ingrates’ and finally shuts her up by threatening to kiss her again. “At the very least, you can tell me something about your magic.”

Zed shrugs. “It ain’t much, just standard blood magic. Helps out when someone’s sick or hurt. You were cold ‘cause your blood wasn’t flowin’ right, so I heated you up. No big deal.” She doesn't really need to know how dangerous it was; it worked out just fine.

“That sounds like something past _standard_ ,” Patricia tells him. “It’s actually quite fascinating. Have you had many opportunities to explore the extent of your magic? Besides crafting a spell to keep me at bay so that you could knock me off of that _cliff_.”

He opens his mouth to respond with another scathing insult when he’s suddenly struck by the memory of all the times he’s explored it with a paid companion. “Not really,” Zed lies, starting to feel uncomfortable again. It’s just _weird_ how they’re lying there as if they actually get along with each other, with her bare as the day she was born. He could definitely get used to it, sure, but it’s still kind of odd. Zed’s mind starts to wander towards the possibility of making love to her. She’s right here in his arms, she’s already said she wants to, and they’d even been working up to it before… “Well, kinda.”

Her eyes are practically gleaming with interest. “Really? You must tell me about it immediately,” Patricia orders, wriggling out of his arms and seizing his tail to press it against her chest. That wouldn’t normally be a problem, but she’s got the very end of it and his fins are being held just over her nipples which are getting hard because she’s getting cold again and he’s getting…distracted.

Zed rubs at the side of his neck. "I just meant that, uh, it was…well, it wasn't _really_ …could you maybe put somethin' on? You're all _naked_."

"Yes, by all means – let me just put back on the clothing _you_ removed from my naked body…but I cannot, because _you_ were the one who caused my clothing to get wet in the first place. I am _cold_ , you ill-mannered… _varmint!_ "

In all his life, he's never heard himself described in such a manner. "Did…did you just really call me a varmint? Is that what _really_ just popped on outta your mouth right now?" Zed asks incredulously.

Patricia raises her chin in the air. "I stand by my assessment."

"You weren't worried 'bout how _ill-mannered_ I was when you needed to breathe an' I helped you do it," Zed points out. "Guess it didn't matter then, huh?"

"It was _your fault_ that I was in the water to begin with," she says, really starting to look mad.

"You weren't worried 'bout it before, either, when your hands were all over me like you were workin' at Moxxi's with a quota to fill-"

A flush of rage is quickly spreading over her skin in a lively pattern of red blotches. "You would know exactly what that is like, wouldn't you, since you have shared yourself with every single doxy in Flamerock Refuge whenever you have coin to spare," Patricia roars, slapping his tail aside and lunging at him.

Zed catches and holds her off easily as she tries to take a swing. "Looks like you ain't cold no more; didn't even take magic to do it, either."

She pauses mid-swipe and looks at him carefully. If he were paying closer attention Zed might know that it bodes ill for his continued well-being, but he's too busy being self-congratulatory. "You goaded me into anger just so that I would warm myself up. Is that a correct assessment of the situation?"

"You're welcome," is Zed's unwise reply. 

Patricia takes a deep breath, he takes a moment to enjoy looking at her taking that deep breath, and because he's too busy staring he doesn't even realize that she's taking another swing at him until he's flat on his back. The back of his head hits the rock, stunning him into immobility. "It doesn't take magic to do _this_ , either," she screams, grabbing his tail and lifting it up over his face. At this point it's dead weight because Zed is still stunned, so when she swings it down at him he can't do anything but watch as he's knocked unconscious by his own fucking tail.


	8. The Princess and the Puh-leeze.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tannis gets kinda/sorta kidnapped. They make out. The Dick Rule™ is being rigorously enforced, and she really must protest.
> 
> They don't like each other, or anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Upgraded the rating to E - this chapter doesn't technically earn it, but it's...getting there.

Nothing in her life to date (or in the future) could possibly surpass the feeling of satisfaction that floods Patricia’s senses as she delivers the coup de grace. Her only real regret is that she hadn’t done this earlier, because Zed richly deserves it. Most of her troubles lately have originated on his doorstep and it’s about time she got some of her own back.

She wrestles with the enormous mail-clad limb, grunting with the effort it’s taking just to move Zed’s tail off of his face. He’s unbelievably heavy – perhaps magical sexist sea louts just eat more often than anyone else in existence. Patricia takes a break, flopping across Zed’s prone form and taking as deep a breath as she can manage. If he could somehow manage to mind his manners for once, they could have a meaningful conversation and perhaps a few more of the kisses they’d been exchanging…

Patricia scowls down at him and pushes herself back up by bracing herself on a chest that really has no business being so muscular and inviting. It’s actually rather ridiculous. Does he think he can lure unsuspecting victims into the water with him with sheer sex appeal? He probably does, she thinks, reaching up to push her bangs out of her eyes. He lures them in with his physique, renders them helpless with a good jolt of hypothermia, and then undresses them before they can make a single peep of protest. “You smell like a _fish_ ,” Patricia tells him, then scrapes up her knuckles by punching where his thighs should be. “That is murder attempt number _four_. I’ll get some sort of strange bacteria beneath my skin and lose my hand to infection.”

She takes a moment to look around inside the cave, finally realizing that it’s fully dark outside yet she can _see_. Patricia locates the source quickly enough, several clusters of lichen that are giving off a surprisingly bright glow. Zed has also collected a few baskets that are full of moonstones, the currency of choice in the neighboring kingdom of Elpis. Elpis is technically a _queendom_ since it’s ruled by Janey I, who has turned out to be very shrewd in trade negotiations with the Hyperion Empire. The very thought of the Empire makes Patricia’s skin crawl, as the Handsome Sorcerer had been one of their ilk. She shakes her head with a sharp motion to rid it of such unwelcome thoughts, because it isn’t every day that she’s taken to a triton’s hidden underwater cave…there are much more important things for her to do. Like snooping around, for instance.

Patricia peers into Zed’s face, refusing to feel guilty upon seeing the slight pattern of scales that had pressed into his cheek. If he hadn’t wanted her to retaliate against him, he shouldn’t have opened his mouth to begin with. Or have had such a heavy tail. She pauses to stroke it, slightly giddy at the prospect of actually exploring the living space of a magical hybrid, and scoots away so that she can stand up and have a proper look around. Patricia lifts one of the cunningly woven baskets into her arms so that she can take the light with her in the event that she needs to study something closely. There are bottles and earthenware crocks full of things she doesn’t recognize, a warped wooden chest stocked with an impressive array of scrolls and carefully scraped parchment, a goodly supply of ink, and… “Oh, thank _Tina_ ,” Patricia sighs, lifting a thick blanket from a neatly folded pile of textiles. There are several items of salt-stained clothing as well, so she wraps the blanket around herself and sits down to sort through it.

She’s just pulling an old-fashioned tunic over her head when she hears Zed begin to stir. Patricia arranges her legs into a more modest display, and brushes her hair out of her face quickly as his eyes open. “Let that be a lesson to you,” she calls over to him, pulling the blanket up around her neck.

Zed groans and pushes himself to a seated position, nearly falling into the water when an injudicious movement of his tail threatens to overbalance him. “What in the fresh hell’d you _do_ to me, woman?”

“Do not address me as _woman_. And if your tail were several thousand pounds lighter, you wouldn’t need to be asking me that question right now.”

He squints at her for a few seconds before remembering. “My tail. You knocked me out with my own _tail_.”

“It made an amusing thudding noise,” Patricia says, “and you richly deserved every moment you were unconscious.”

Zed touches his face gingerly, wincing. “Yeah, I…I guess I kinda did.”

"It also gave me some time to look around-”

His expression shifts from rueful to alarmed and Patricia watches how his tail flexes against the rock that's beneath his body. “Look around _where_.”

“Your cave; where else would I look? Molestation was the last thing on my mind, I can assure you,” she says tartly, suddenly understanding the reason why Zed looks so nervous. _Really_. Curious she might be, but she wouldn’t stoop to fondling an unconscious male. “I was forced to grapple with your tail, but it was only so that it didn’t completely smother you.” If she wasn’t looking so closely, she might not have seen the abortive movement he makes with one of his hands towards… “Are your sexual organs in the same place as a human male’s?” Patricia demands.

“That ain’t none of your _business_ ,” Zed hisses at her, which proves that her guess is a valid one. “Why’d you gotta be so damned weird, askin’ stuff like that!”

Patricia tosses her blanket to the side so that she can come closer, though Zed’s tail rises to jab her in the stomach in an attempt to halt her progress. “This is _fascinating_. A penis isn’t outwardly apparent, which means that it is _sheathed_ and somehow hidden beneath your scales,” she breathes. His tail gives her another warning swat when she starts forward again. “Just let me-”

“ _No,_ ” Zed tells her, displaying all the classic signs of embarrassment. “It ain’t your business, and I ain’t gonna show you nothing ‘cause I don’t wanna talk about it. Move the hell _on_.” He does a double take. "Where'd you get that? You ain't fit to wear it, take it off!"

She looks down at the tunic in confusion and scowls at him. "You drenched my other clothing of choice – clothing that belonged to _me_ \- and now you have the nerve to order me to undress once more? I do not think so."

"Where'd you _get_ it."

"There is a pile of several-"

"Go pick somethin' else. You can't wear that," Zed repeats, growing increasingly agitated.

"What is wrong with this one?"

"Take it _off!_ "

Patricia stamps her foot and, grabbing the hem of the tunic, whips it off and throws it at him. " _Fine!_ " Now he doesn't seem to know where to look, although she does detect a hint of relief that she's not actually wearing the tunic any longer – Patricia doesn't know why, because it's certainly too small for _him_ to wear. "I suggest you procure something for me to wear so that this kind of scene isn't repeated." She folds her arms beneath her breasts, tapping her foot while she waits for Zed to surface from his nudity-induced reverie.

He finally clears his throat and starts hauling himself over to the corner in which she found the clothing. Seeing someone who is usually so graceful in the water being this… _ungainly_ when he’s out of it is vaguely embarrassing somehow. Zed sorts through the pile of old clothing before selecting a massive pair of trousers and an even larger tunic, averting his eyes as he hands them to her. Patricia slips the tunic over her head and declines the trousers, as she’s already in danger of being smothered by her own outfit. It might be shapeless and huge, but it’s dry and it’s warm – she’ll take it. “Water’s way too cold for me to take you back out there,” Zed tells her slowly. “It, uh, it looks like you’re stuck here ‘til mornin’.”

Her eyes widen in surprise, though in retrospect Patricia should have known that this was the only possible course of action. “You are telling me that I have effectively been abducted,” she says thoughtfully.

“ _No_ , you…” Zed makes a face. “…are kinda right. Damnit.”

“I am prepared to forgive, if not forget, if you do me the service of answering any questions I might have concerning your unique physiology," Patricia says.

Zed considers this arrangement. "Two rules and it's a yes. First, y'don't put my name down _nowhere_. Second, I ain't gettin' my dick out so don't even ask."

Patricia sighs. "You may have only one rule."

"It's _still_ the dick rule."

"That is not much of a bargain," she complains, feeling quite unhappy with Zed's bargaining skills. Still, Patricia is reminded of his enthusiastic response to her kisses. "Very well, I shall agree to this. My end goal _is_ sexual intercourse, which you seem not entirely opposed to, and all reports concerning sex with a male point to the inevitability of a penile presence."

Zed starts laughing. "A what, now? Princess, you are just too damned much! _Penile presence!_ " 

"Why is that humorous? I don't understand."

He wipes at his eyes, making some sort of wheezing sound. "Don't…don't worry 'bout it."

Patricia shrugs and sinks back down into the folds of the blanket she'd taken earlier, wondering if Zed will try to snatch this one away from her too. "How are the bones in your tail structured? I am going to assume that there _are_ bones there, because you can obviously move it and don't seem to slither like a serpent."

“Let’s both just forget you compared me to a snake,” Zed sighs. “Yes, I got bones in my tail an’ _no_ , I dunno how many’re in there. It's kinda like a…a spine that just goes all the way down.”

Fascinating. Patricia scoots forward and reaches for his tail – after a few moments of scowling to establish some sort of dominance (pure male nonsense, in her opinion), Zed uncoils and extends it for her to touch. She pulls it onto her lap and inspects it closely. “Precisely how sensitive are your scales? Would you say that the degree of sensitivity is comparable with bare human flesh? It does not seem as if it would be…”

“Well, uh, when I'm human _everything_ is more sensitive,” Zed admits. “Right now I'd probably say that's like, um, like bein’ touched when you got a layer or two of clothes on, I guess.” 

She traces her fingertips over the thick, beautifully iridescent scales. “Do you have any idea how strong these are? What amount of force might be required to pierce them?”

Zed’s tail twitches in her grasp. “That sounds like I’d better watch my mouth or you’ll harpoon the livin’ daylights outta me.”

“Don't be ridiculous. We’ve already established the fact that all I would have to do is club you with your own appendage,” Patricia says quite sensibly. “Besides, wherever would I find an actual _harpoon?_ ”

He laughs again, for some reason, and gives her a long look that causes interesting acrobatics to happen in her midsection. “You really think that guild’s gonna let you in, if you study me? You could just hand it all over only to have ‘em take your research and put their own names on it.”

Patricia looks down and plucks at the blanket on her lap. “I still hope to gain admission on the basis of my studies of eridium. A study of _you_ would be conducted for my own personal…edification. I find you unreasonably fascinating, as well as irritatingly appealing to the eye. Being exposed to your raw sexual appeal makes me aroused to the point of nausea.”

“You make me sick, too, so don't you worry,” Zed tells her. When she looks back up, it's to find that he's moved closer to her and is giving her another intense look – the last time he'd aimed something even remotely similar towards her… “C’mere, Princess.”

Her heart is hammering against her ribs as she slowly moves towards him, the soft rasp of his scales on the rock causing a tingling sensation to sweep through her. The words she wants to speak, cutting words that will plainly show him that _she_ is the one in control here, simply refuse to leave her mouth. All she wants to do is lose herself in the sensations she'd experienced with him earlier, despite knowing that it could be a very bad idea. “I…I do _not_ like you,” Patricia whispers shakily.

“That’s too bad,” Zed tells her, meeting her halfway. His tail winds around her slowly and it should be suffocating, but she’s finding it almost unbearably erotic. 

“Oh?” Patricia slides her hands over his chest and fits herself against his strong body, nearly drowning in sensation. “Why is that?”

Zed’s mouth brushes her shoulder, and moves to the curve of her neck while the tip of his tail flicks the blanket out of the way. “’Cause I'm startin’ to think that I could like you a whole hell of a lot.”

“ _Oh_ ,” she breathes as he covers her mouth with his. 

He somehow manages to arrange the blanket so that when he lays her back, Patricia finds that the thick fabric cushions her. She runs her hands over him as slowly as the clamoring of her desire will allow, feeling slightly frustrated at not being able to gauge his own level of want. Zed appears to enjoy having her hands on him just the same, pausing to issue a low groan when Patricia strokes the area just below his abdomen where scales meet flesh. “You are too damned sexy by half,” he accuses, sliding one of his hands beneath her tunic. Zed stretches out on the rock beside her and she presses against him wantonly, her mouth opening under his.

In contrast to their first kiss, this one is more leisurely though it quickly grows just as heated. Patricia wriggles to allow his questing hand access to her breasts, trying to remember if she’s supposed to let him touch whatever he wants – she’s had several experiences with potential partners pawing at her before learning that she didn’t really _need_ to submit to it. Of course everyone seems to think that, while males are fully expected to unleash their libido at every opportunity, women are supposed to restrain themselves. Complete and utter nonsense. She sighs at the feel of Zed’s big hands on her body and resolves to think no more of it, intent upon enjoying herself to the fullest.

He teases one of her nipples to hardness and then pinches it gently, drawing a moan from her. Zed’s other hand is cupping her bottom and Patricia shivers when his grip tightens. “You cold, honey?”

Patricia shakes her head and shivers harder. “N-no, I just…you are creating the most wonderful sensations inside of me,” she confesses, letting her eyes drift shut as he continues to stroke her body. “Earlier, in the water…could you…? Your mouth, it was-” she breaks off as Zed slips the tunic from her shoulder to expose the breast he’d been fondling, ducking his head to run his tongue over her nipple. Patricia threads her fingers through his hair and arches to press against his mouth. “ _Yes_ , please.”

Zed’s tail is thrashing back and forth, alternately coiling around her lower body and thumping against the wall – she’s vaguely aware that he’s overturned a few of the baskets and that it really should be amusing, but all she wants is _more_. He draws her nipple into his mouth and sucks until they both discover what amount of pressure Patricia enjoys most, then performs the same service for the other breast. “I could just roll you into the water and fuck you right now,” Zed whispers harshly when he draws back. “If you were anyone else, I swear I’d do it.”

She wets her lips with her tongue, attempting to string two or more words together to make a coherent sentence. The throbbing ache between her legs is growing unbearable. “If you are seriously considering using _this_ as a stopping point, a harpoon will be the least of your worries,” Patricia threatens, not even knowing precisely what she wants – this is all relatively new though no less distressing. She swallows a gasp upon feeling the fins on the end of Zed’s tail stroke the backs of her legs and, looking him right in the face, parts her thighs in an unsubtle demand.

“You’re makin’ me crazy,” he rasps, glancing down along her body. Patricia is aware that she should be feeling horribly exposed with the borrowed tunic pushed down to expose her chest and rucked up around her waist. Zed bites at his lower lip as he gazed down at her, and Patricia could swear that the flush on his skin extends to his scales as well. The very tip of his tail winds up her leg, with Zed watching her carefully as Patricia registers the first brush of the gossamer-thin membranes covering his fins.

Her eyes flutter closed and she gasps, digging her nails into his skin. Zed gives her another feather-light caress that has Patricia arching up into the touch. “ _Zed_ ,” she says dizzily, clinging to him as if he’s a lifeline. She’s never had anyone touch her like this and all she wants is more of it. He continues to tease her until the only thing she can do is moan in desperation, because his hands are still exploring her body and his mouth is doing something absolutely wonderful to her neck. “Please, I need… _ooh_ -!”

Zed closes his teeth on her skin gently, then licks the indentations he’s left behind. “What d’you need, sweetheart?” 

“I need you to – to mount me,” Patricia says, trying to speak firmly and failing miserably because the words emerge as a pathetic whine.

His hands, which had been stroking her rather eagerly, stop dead at this and he swears under his breath. “Tina _above_ , Princess, I…I _can’t_.”

If she’d thought herself desperate before, the sudden lack of stimulation is starting to make her feel as though she’s going to lose what is left of her wits. Her cunt actually _aches_. Surely he’s not going to leave her like this. “I am going to murder you with my own two hands-”

Zed quickly moves a hand down to cup her pubis; Patricia sighs with immeasurable relief. “It ain’t right to spring that on you just yet,” he murmurs, pressing his fingers up against her swollen labia but not enough to slip inside her body. “Don’t mind givin’ you what you _really_ need right now, though…” She spares a glance up into his face. “You can murder me after.”

A strange, wonderful… _warmth_ radiates from his hand into her. Patricia’s breath comes faster as the heat intensifies, because it’s like he’s caressing her exactly where she needs to be touched even though Zed is holding himself so still. She turns her head to hide her face against his chest as pleasure pulses through her like a second heartbeat, expanding until her world holds nothing but the man currently ensuring that she doesn’t go unsatisfied. Zed twists his wrist slightly, pressing the heel of his hand up against her skin. 

She clings to him, unable to even scream as the heat roils inside her. He does… _something_ more to her, and then the scream leaves her throat just fine – Patricia jerks and shudders as she reaches orgasm, barely conscious of Zed’s arms tightening around her. Her open-mouthed pants seem impossibly loud, and she bites her lips in an effort to stop another series of moans from emerging. Zed finally moves his hand away and gathers her even closer to him while she trembles in reaction. "Wh-what w-w-was _that?_ " Patricia slurs, feeling as though she's just downed roughly ten barrels of Zaford bourbon.

"Oh, y'know…nothin' much," Zed says casually. "Told you it wasn't a big deal, now didn't I?"

As she feels much too relaxed to argue with him about it, Patricia limits her comment to a simple nod of agreement. Somehow she can tell that if she were to freely express her enjoyment, Zed will be next to impossible to live with for the next few millennia. "You said that you hadn't really experimented with your magic," she says next, moving a hand down his back to run her fingertips over the tapered scales there. "If your penis is in the same area as when you are a human male… is _this_ still your behind?"

She reaches down to grasp the area in question, which makes Zed snort into her hair. "Where are you _gettin'_ this stuff?"

"Well, _is_ it?"

"I'm gonna go with probably not, 'cause that'd be one seriously flat ass. Princess, you are crazy as hell." Zed laughs and loosens his grip on her, then frowns thoughtfully. “Though…well, I _do_ sit on it so maybe…damn it.”

Patricia sighs and leans back against him, the aftermath of pleasure making her sleepily relaxed. “I don’t believe that I carry the same amount of distaste for you as I previously harbored, but I certainly hope that you realize not to count on my future cooperation.”

“Course not. This was obviously a one-time deal,” Zed tells her, keeping his body molded to hers and slowly running his fingers through her hair. “Told you that you ain’t special, didn’t I.”

“You did, indeed, and the sentiment could not be any more mutual than it already is,” she says, declining to move from his embrace. Patricia trails her hand up and down his spine, pressing gently at the scales that begin at his tailbone. It feels nice to lie there wrapped around each other, and for now it’s comforting to lose herself in the falsehoods they’ve both created…so she kisses his neck and inhales his scent, pretending that casual pleasure is all this is about. Anything else would spur a full scale panic attack if she examined it too closely, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with taking her ease with a man she doesn’t know that well. Patricia firmly reminds herself that she has been working hard lately, and she’s owed a reward for it. 

Zed abruptly gives her bottom a firm squeeze that startles her out of her thoughts, and she emits an embarrassing squeal. “Hear that? A wild piglet musta gotten down here with us,” he teases.

“Speaking of wild _pigs_ -”

“Don’t you even start with me, woman; you _asked_ me t’do all that!”

Patricia seizes his face between her hands and heaves herself up to kiss his mouth. “You are very attractive when you become angry.”

“Ain’t that supposed to be my line?”

“Don’t be sexist. Kiss me immediately.” He shrugs and rolls her onto her back to perform the requested surface with enough zeal that Patricia is suddenly reminded that, while she achieved climax, he did not. “Zed.”

Zed draws back with a frown. “What?”

“Would you like me to stroke your turgid member to completion?”

He releases her and rolls away, rubbing furiously at the side of his neck. “Why d’you have to _say_ somethin’ like that? Who _talks_ like…there’s nobody here but us and I still feel like someone else heard you say that!”

“How would you like me to say it? It is not every day that I offer sexual relief to whichever magical creature that happens to swim past.”

“I dunno, you kinda look like the type who does – oh, c’mon! I’m _kiddin’!_ ” Zed looks away, and his hand moves to yank on his ear. “Well, I never- I mean, you just say…oh, I got no damn idea! Just…not like _that_.”

Patricia eyes him incredulously. “I was under the impression that you are an actual _physician_. How could you possibly speak to your patients in a coherent manner if you are unable to enter into a frank discussion about sexuality?”

“That’s _different_ , I don’t wanna bang none of my patients!”

“But you want to ‘bang’ me?”

“ _Yes_.”

“Then why didn’t you do so when I asked you to?”

Zed sighs loudly and claps his hands to his face. “ _Goddess!_ You are just freakin’ _dedicated_ to makin’ my life miserable!”

She watches his theatrics calmly, then reaches out to seize his tail. “Zed. I think now is the time for you to explain yourself fully, after I explain _my_ self. You seem to be operating under the assumption that I am willfully ignoring any nonverbal clues or what you might call normal assumptions, which cannot be further from the truth. I have known for some time that I am…different, but it is not something I can correct.”

His brow furrows. “Different how?”

“My…my family was of the belief that I was a changeling, because some of my behaviors were not something that they could understand. They believe that since I do not behave as they think I should, that there is something wrong with me. Mimicking other children’s responses to certain stimuli helped me to learn what was acceptable and what was not, but it did not come naturally to me. For example, if I were asked a question concerning another’s physical appearance, at times it was difficult for me to understand why I should not answer it honestly to avoid giving offense.”

Zed moves closer, still looking thoughtful. “Okay, so…so when I think you’re bein’ rude…it ain’t just that, it’s ‘cause you can’t help it?”

“Oh, some of the time I _am_ intentionally being rude to you,” she says, which makes him laugh and sets a warmth in her stomach in her stomach because of his response to her joke. “It requires a decent amount of concentration to study nonverbal cues so that I am aware of the required response and, to be perfectly honest, it gets exhausting. Living here, away from anyone who might possibly be relatives, is much more comfortable for me.” 

“I get that,” Zed says agreeably, but his frown has deepened. “But there ain’t a thing wrong with you. I mean, you’re much too cute to be allowed outdoors, but other’n _that_ …you’re fine.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re cute, and you’re rude, but there’s nothin’ _wrong_ with you,” Zed explains. “If there was, you’d be actin’ different right now.”

“Of course there is nothing wrong with me – your repetition of that phrase seems a suggestion that _I_ have subscribed to whatever erroneous conclusions that my relations have drawn. I do not need _you_ to reassure me of my own worth,” Patricia says sharply, wondering if she’ll have to thrash him with his tail again. “I am simply telling you why I, as you have said, ‘talk like that.’ It is the only manner I know how to speak. If you would like me to use certain words when we are in an intimate situation, it is best that you tell me what to say and when to say it.”

Zed opens and closes his mouth a few times before throwing up his hands in defeat. “Just not right now, okay? I gotta think about it first. I ain’t too good at talkin’ plain.”

“ _Really_.”

“Don’t you laugh at me,” Zed warns, but she sees a smile start to curve his mouth. “Fine. You really wanna know why I wouldn’t get on you earlier?” She nods and he slides closer, coiling his tail beside her neatly. “You’re the only one who’s ever, y’know, _seen_ me like this and not run away screamin’. I mean, sure, there’s my brothers and I know a couple undines…but I never been like _this_ with nobody who actually wanted to be here.”

Patricia thinks about it. “You mean, sex.”

“Yeah. I’ve done it plenty as a man, and I like it a lot, but…” He looks down, turning red with embarrassment. “Oh, hell. I just, what if I’m too rough on you? Of course I’d _try_ not to be, but it’s your first time and you deserve a lot better than some old triton who don’t even know half of what he’s doin’. Plus, you might think it’s-” he breaks off. “You hungry? I’m hungry. I’d better go get us some _food_. Be back soon’s I can,” Zed yells, and hurls himself into the water to avoid further explanation.

She blinks in astonishment, trying to figure out exactly what had just happened – one moment he’d been confiding his apprehensions about making love to her, but then Zed had stopped himself from continuing…why? Patricia sighs and rearranges her borrowed clothing as she thinks about it, shivering at the memory of how the cleric had brought her to orgasm using nothing but a well-placed hand. She can’t recall the last time (if ever) she’s had a climax that intense when left to her own devices, and has to admit that monogamy certainly has much to recommend it. Of course it’s a shame that she was not able to return the favor, or even catch the smallest glimpse of…

“Oh,” Patricia says aloud, pleased to have hit upon a possible explanation for Zed’s strange behavior and hurried exit. It’s a well-known fact that males have great pride in their genitalia, so he should have been quite happy to display his own…unless Zed is somehow worried about her reaction. “ _Men._ ”

She scrambles to her feet and heads into the furthest corner of the cave to rummage through the collection of scrolls and parchment, selecting a few and retrieving a bottle of ink as well as three quills to write with. The first scroll she unrolls turns out to be some sort of map, which she discards, and the next three are _also_ maps. Patricia rolls them all back up except one, and holds it closer to the light to inspect it; it’s no map of any country she’s ever seen before, so she carefully puts it back and dips her borrowed quill in the ink pot. She loses herself in creating a few rough sketches and writing down what Zed had told her concerning his anatomy, not even realize that he’s returned until she looks up to find him busily cleaning… “Is that _fish?_ ”

Zed doesn’t even glance up from his task. “Yep.” Patricia watches as he slits the last fish open and scraps the offal out onto the fire that she _also_ didn’t even notice that he’d built. “This one was my second cousin, once removed. Meet Anthony,” he says, finally looking up and lifting the fish into the air so that its glassy dead eyes are aimed in her general direction.

“I am not going to dignify that with a response,” Patricia decides. He grins and goes back to work, de-boning the fish with short economical movements. The blade he’s using looks like some sort of monster’s tooth that has been filed down to a point, but he shakes his head _no_ when she asks him to verify her guess. “How did you get firewood in here, or is that a spell?”

He rinses the knife and sets it aside carefully before looking at her again. “It ain’t a spell – I brought the wood down here since I figured you’d want your food cooked over an actual fire.”

“As opposed to a fake fire?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Zed says casually. “You got some ink on your nose, Princess.”

Patricia gazes across at him. “You never said how you managed to bring dry wood inside this cave.”

“It’s a grotto, and I got the wood in here by slidin’ the pieces through that hole up there – little known fact about tritons is that we can fly. I just zoomed on up the cliff an’ swiped a few logs from the communal pile, easy as that.”

“You can _fly?_ ”

“No. Tina _above_ , you’ll believe just about any damn thing,” Zed laughs, shaking his head. “I set up a rope and pulley under one of the bridges so I can shift stuff around.” He refuses to tell her exactly where it’s located, because of his belief that she’ll sabotage his delivery system the next time he makes her angry. This is slightly unfair, because she wouldn’t wait until Zed did something outrageous – she’d do so the very instant she became bored. Patricia decides to keep this information to herself. “C’mere, honey. I could use your help.”

She carefully sets aside the parchment and ink, then moves over to seat herself at his side. “Your tail is still wet, so I insist that it behave itself.”

Zed shows her how he’ll be cooking their evening meal on thin pieces of wood, and Patricia helps by carefully arranging the planks on the metal frame he’s put together from salvaged weapons. “All those skeletons left their swords an’ things just lyin’ around, so I figured I could use ‘em for somethin’,” he says when she asks about it.

“May I ask you a question?” Patricia carefully prods one of the planks into a better position, trying to ignore the sudden growling of her stomach. “Are you worried about my response to viewing your sex organ for the first time?”

His tail jerks in surprise, and it very nearly bowls her over. “ _What_ the- how long you been waitin’ to ask me somethin’ like that?” Zed demands, sounding angry. She risks a glance at him and notes that he looks angry, too. “Why can’t you _just_ …”

“It is silly to feel apprehensive; I fully expect your penis to be as individual as you are,” Patricia says frankly. “My experience with male genitalia consists of several amusing drawings and one or two drunken individuals who seemed to think I would benefit from their proud display. I did not care for theirs, but I would very much like to view yours.”

Zed is looking the most uncomfortable she’s ever seen him. “I dunno.”

“The simple fact that you are apprehensive indicates that-”

“Can we not talk about this right now?” he interrupts, gesturing towards the fire. “Let's just eat, okay?”

Patricia decides to broach the subject immediately following dinner, so it costs her nothing to accede with a gracious nod. “Very well.” Distracting him with her lips is definitely no hardship, either, so they pass a very pleasant few minutes exchanging kisses. 

They eat in companionable silence, and she finds to her relief that he's brought drinking water as well as some very strong wine. It’s been years since she’s actually shared a meal with someone else and Zed doesn’t push her into a discussion, which Patricia appreciates. The fish is surprisingly good, and the wine is strong enough to make her slightly drunk after just one cup of it. Zed feeds their ‘plates’ into the fire once they’re done with them, and builds it up into a roaring blaze that turns the cave brighter than the midday sky. She gets the hiccups, to Zed’s intense amusement, and swats at him when he tries to move her back away from the flames. “That blanket’ll catch fire and you’ll go up right along with it,” he says.

She grudgingly scoots back into a cooler area of his cave. No, _grotto_. That sounds slightly more romantic and mysterious than the utilitarian word ‘cave,’ Patricia supposes. She makes him loop his tail to create an impromptu seat for her, drapes one of the blankets over the armored coils, and settles in comfortably. “You seem remarkably warm,” Patricia says, running her fingers over his fins as he drains his own cup of wine – the touch makes him shiver slightly, she notices with interest.

The tip of Zed’s tail twitches. “That’s ‘cause I can change my body temperature to whatever I want, whenever I want to. Pretty handy ability t’have.”

“Yes, it is,” she agrees readily. “I would not mind to have the same gift.”

“You’re cold?” Zed pulls her closer and puts his arms around her which feels very, very nice. Patricia tilts her head back and purses her lips in a silent request to be kissed, running her hands over his back as he readily obliges her. He actually seems to have the same craving for touch as she’s discovered that _she_ harbors, which Patricia doesn’t mind at all. It isn’t exactly based on their mutual desire for each other, but something profoundly comforting that fills a need she hardly even knew existed.

The slow movement of his mouth on hers, coupled with the warmth of his strong body, begin to stir her passions and quicken her pulse. Zed, sensing her change in mood, shifts his hands from idle soothing patterns to cunning explorations of her body beneath the tunic. She’s clear-headed enough to realize that he just might show her what she wants to see if she phrases her request correctly, and asks him at the right time. Patricia struggles out of Zed’s arms, watching his look of confusion clear as she tugs the tunic off over her head before coming back to gladly twine with him.

"I find this much more enjoyable than our usual interactions," she tells him.

Zed smiles and draws the back of his knuckles across the side of her bare breast, making her do some shivering of her own. "You mean, without all that yellin' and fussin'? How could you like this better?" he teases. "Thought you liked fightin' with me."

She shrugs, reaching up to stroke the white hair at his temples. "Both activities have much to recommend them."

"Good, 'cause I'm still gonna fight with you."

"I hope you are prepared to lose any argument you engage me in, because it's already been determined that I am smarter than you," Patricia says sweetly, cuddling against him as she waits for Zed to take the bait.

He doesn't disappoint her. "… _'Scuse_ me?"

Patricia sighs and nuzzles beneath his chin. "I am not only smarter, but _much_ more courageous."

"Y'know? We were gettin' along an' everything-"

" _For example_ ; here I am without a single stitch of clothing on. To use a popular expression, I am 'letting it all hang out' while _you_ -"

Zed peels her off of him, holding her at arm's length while he stares at her incredulously. "Are you for real? Did you _really_ start all that just 'cause you wanna see my dick?"

"That… depends upon one very important thing," Patricia says cautiously.

"Like what?" he demands.

She takes a deep breath to make his eyes drop down to her breasts, then lets it out slowly. "Did it _work?_ "


	9. Looking for lice in all the wrong places.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zed comes to an unwelcome conclusion but is determined to make the most of it while Patricia is determined to make the most of _him_. Ted and his underwater harem make a cameo appearance. Everyone else wonders if the author has finally lost her mind.

No matter how long he’s waited for it, waking up in his true form remains a disorienting experience…and that feeling doubles when Zed remembers that he’s not alone. Once he’s finished realizing that, no, this _isn’t_ a dream, he turns his attention to the woman curled up beside him. She’s sleeping with a child’s abandon, arms and legs akimbo, and he props his chin on a fist while he watches her.

Patricia’s hair is sticking up every which way, she still has ink on her face and hands, her tunic is an absolute mess, and she’s the most beautiful thing Zed’s ever seen in his entire life. He reaches out to touch her cheek but then notices the way her tunic is twisted beneath her, making her breasts push against the fabric…he swallows hard and drops his hand. She’s nearly driven him out of his mind for wanting her, and the stirring he feels now proves that it’s not an urge that’s going to be going away any time soon.

Goddess, how he wants her.

He could have had her easily, but the sudden idea that she might be turned off when she got a good look at his dick had proved impossible to expel from his thoughts. Zed knows it’s what he was born with and there’s no real reason why he should be ashamed of anything, but that might just be because he’s never had anyone else – least of all a prospective _mate_ \- get close enough to judge for themselves. What _if_ it’s something that she just can’t accommodate, either mentally or physically? Sure, it’s not _that_ big…maybe a bit larger than his human dick, but Zed’s never been in the habit of going around eyeballing other men’s junk to see how he measures up.

It’s worry piling upon worry, and he’s stressed out enough as it is. He _should_ be thrilled to death that Patricia wants him in the first place, but she’s got that whole virginity nonsense going on – and he’d told her the truth about being afraid to hurt her. The woman looks like she’d get a bruise from a falling leaf, and here she is all gung-ho about bedding him. There’s no possible way that could end well for either of them. Sex has already landed him in enough trouble because of that damned barmaid – Zed has no clue who she’s told about him so far, and if any trophy hunters might get the heads up about his particular talent. All it’d take is one whisper regarding blood magic being bandied about and the hunt would be on, with him as the prey. Maybe he was just meant to keep his hands, and all other parts of his body, to himself.

Zed rolls onto his back and closes his eyes with a despairing sigh, feeling another swell of desire as he notices how good she smells. He’d never meant to bring her here, but here she is and here is where Zed wants her to _stay_. Fragrance, bad manners, and all. He looks at her and there’s a tightness in his chest that he can’t explain, but all he wants to do is make sure she’s happy…so of course what he does instead is to try to drive her away. When he thinks of her Zed doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or be violently ill because his body seems to think it should be all three at the very same time. Then he’s back to wanting to cry, because he _knows_ there’s a name for what he’s feeling and there’s no possible way she could ever be feeling the same. _He_ shouldn’t even be feeling it; he barely even _knows_ her. 

But oh, how he wants to.

He wants to hear more about her village and what her parents must have thought when their willful, brilliant, beautiful daughter bucked tradition and left them behind because they didn’t have the decency to treat her like an actual person.

He wants to hear her theories about eridium not because he’d understand anything she was saying, but because Zed figures she needs someone to actually _listen_ to her… and he’d get to watch her face come alive with the excitement of actually being asked about it.

He wants to see where she lives so that he can finally know what things she consciously chooses to surround herself with and what she discards as unimportant.

He wants to _be_ what she chooses.

Everyone knows that there’s no such thing as love at first sight, and he thought that he knew it too, but now Zed isn’t so sure. Everyone knows that there’s no such thing as _him_ , either.

Zed releases his breath slowly, and turns back to look at the woman he’s chosen as his mate without even realizing it. He has no idea what to do, but one thing is certain – if she importunes him for sex even once more, he’s going to give in and to hell with the consequences. 

And she _does_ smell really good.

He leans over to bury his face in her hair and inhales deeply, the scent of her filling his senses. Patricia, of course, wakes up right at that same moment. “Are you smelling me?" she demands.

"No," Zed lies smoothly, drawing back. "I was lookin' for lice."

"I don't have _lice_."

"Not anymore, you don't. Looks like you drowned all of 'em."

She huffs out an indignant reply that Zed tries his best not to smile at, and then she makes him take her out to shore because she needs to relieve herself. Patricia’s alarm borders on hysteria when he suggests that he find her a chamberpot because it’s nothing to him, but she’s so overwrought at the very idea that Zed really has no choice but to do as ordered. He’d more than halfway hoped that he’d get the chance to mate with her, so he feels out of sorts that she wants to leave so soon. Still, he’s mindful of what she’d told him about her reactions to things and figures that his best bet is just to make sure she stays as comfortable as he can make her…he might be a little disgruntled over not actually getting laid any time soon, but Zed knows that he’ll get over it. Eventually. After an extended bout of masturbation and a _lot_ of wishful thinking.

“Do not attempt to drown me again,” Patricia tells him.

Zed gathers her into his arms, carefully balancing on the edge of the water. He wants to ask her to reconsider because he doesn’t want her to leave just yet, and there’s an unwise urge to kiss her mouth and tell her that he just might be in love with her, but what comes out is “You just worry ‘bout not peein’ on me, Li’l Miss Bladder the Size of a Pebble.”

“How do _you_ use the facilities?” she asks after slapping him in the face.

“Princess, you gotta learn not to ask a question you might not like the answer to,” Zed tells her. “Deep breath; we’re goin’.”

The trip back to shore is accomplished a lot faster than the journey away from it because not only is the current going their way, but he doesn’t have an armful of panicked alchemist to deal with. Patricia behaves herself for probably the first and only time in her life, which Zed puts down to having to pee so badly. They breach the surface of the water and she’s off like a shot, floundering towards shore. “Stop _following_ me,” she complains, shaking Zed off when he tries to help.

“It don’t matter _how_ much we made out last night, none of my swimmin’ ability rubbed off on you! Gimme a second an’ I’ll tow you over there.” Zed puts his words to action before she can whine any more about it, and then he’s boosting her up onto the sand. Patricia dashes off without a backwards glance and Zed isn’t sure if he's suppose to wait for her or not, so he keeps his tail beneath the water and hangs out for a few minutes. She doesn’t come back and Zed isn’t too wild about staying in one place for too long, especially when hunters might be on his tail already. “Hey, uh, Tricia? I’m gonna get…see y’round.” There’s no reply.

Oh, well.

Zed sinks down below the surface regretfully, wondering if he’s scared her off for good, when a rock plops down into the water a few feet away. Another one follows it, then another after that, so he circles around another of the sunken plinths before taking a peek. Patricia is busily scooping up rocks and flinging them into the water to get his attention. “ _Zed!_ ”

“You need somethin’?” he asks, startling her so badly that she flings her next rock directly at his head. It bounces off his forehead, and he claps a hand over the rapidly swelling bump she’s just given him. “ _Ow_.”

“Oh! Why was your face there?”

“Apology accepted,” Zed says drily. “Look, whaddaya want?”

Patricia wrings her hands in an unconscious sort of motion. “I left the parchment in your grotto. And my clothing. And…and…nobody calls me ‘Tricia.’”

Zed swims closer. “Really, now. _Nobody_.”

“Well, no. My family, in their more…affectionate moments, used to call me Patty.”

“I ain’t your momma, and I ain’t callin’ you that,” he says, restraining himself from pointing out that nobody should ever have a nickname that sounds like either a burger or a slang word for crap. “I’ll bring your clothes up, but I can’t get the other stuff out ‘til I get legs again…gonna take a bit for just the clothes on account of you hittin’ me so hard I’m seein’ two of you.”

She makes another exclamation of dismay and inches towards him. “I truly didn’t expect you to be there. Hopefully your stupidly attractive face will recover soon.”

Zed glances around to make sure they’re unobserved, then moves as close to shore as he can without getting beached. “Maybe you could kiss it better,” he suggests, and she turns pink like he’s just suggested that they sell tickets for a crowd to watch them have sex.

“My breath in the morning hours is something that’s considerably less than pleasant,” Patricia tells him, still creeping forward like she’s trying to sneak up on him.

“Hell, Princess, I don’t mind,” Zed replies, trying not to sound eager. “I figure you owe me at least _one_ kiss ‘fore you go get dried off.”

Her eyes light up at this, though she acts like he’s insisting on something truly unreasonable, and he thinks hard about what he can do to impress her so she’ll want to stick around longer. Zed figures he could probably do something about her morning breath because that’s _kind of_ a medical issue – people come to him all the time with tooth problems. Patricia walks back out into the shallows and kneels down. “I _did_ warn you.”

Zed reaches out to cup her jaw in one of his hands and sends the merest tendril of his magic into her body, feeling extremely silly for actually using his gift to deal with bad breath just to impress a girl. Patricia’s eyes widen slightly as she feels the intrusion, but then he’s leaning forward to claim that kiss she owes him. By the time they come up for air, she’s plastered against him like a second skin and ‘just one kiss’ is threatening to evolve into a full-on makeout session right there on the beach. “I guess that’ll do it,” Zed says dazedly. “You better get outta here ‘fore I drag you back down.”

She’s still keeping her eyes closed and she sways back and forth gently when he gives her a little push back to her knees. Patricia's tongue flicks out to press against her top lip, then she gives him the same kind of look that he’s only seen Moxxi give to gold coins that have been left unattended. “That sort of reasoning is more likely to persuade me to stay here,” Patricia tells him. “Did you really just cure my halitosis?”

“Did you really think I’d let you kiss me with that kinda bog-breath? I got standards,” Zed says, glancing around again, “and I also gotta _go_ ‘fore somebody decides to sell me out t’your ol’ Dahl Brotherhood cronies.”

“How much would you fetch? I could use a few new books.”

“That’s real funny there, Miss Tannis. You’re a laugh-a-freakin’ minute… seriously though, I _do_ gotta scram so I guess I’ll be seein’ you.” He waits for her to say something (anything, really) about still needing to study him, or a reminder about her clothes, but Patricia just looks at him like she’s expecting _him_ to say something. Zed can’t very well ask her to let him take her right back down to the grotto so he can flop around on top of her for an unspecified amount of time. “I’mma need that thing back, so don’t burn it or nothin’,” he says instead, gesturing to the borrowed tunic she’s still wearing.

Zed sinks back into the deeper water and swims back out to sea, surreptitiously checking to see if she’s still watching him. She is, and continues to do so, so he once again gives into the urge to show off and does a jump-and-dive maneuver that his father would have beaten him senseless for doing so close to land.

He busies himself by gathering enough food for the remainder of his last day, feeling the familiar sense of depression settling over him because he can’t think of how best to spend his time. It’d been different the day before, when Patricia had distracted him, but now he’s back to the same pattern of hopelessness and indecision. Zed’s wasted countless full moons this way and it looks like he’s about to waste another one…it’s too bad Patricia’s off doing Tina-knows-what.

After his morning meal, Zed decides that he’ll go and visit one of his brothers. Ted and his mate Helga had taken up residence on a small island several months back, and Zed supposes that they’ll still be there…if they’re not too busy out on one of the shipping lanes trying to drown wayward sailors and fisherfolk. He hasn't been by to see them for quite some time because of how difficult Ted is to get along with – no matter if they cross paths for only fifteen seconds, they always seem to get into a fight about something. Ted always says that _Zed_ is the one that’s hard to get along with and they usually ask Helga who’s right but she has an annoying tendency to start laughing and refusing to say.

Zed goes back into his grotto before making the trip and he feels foolish for doing so, but he wants to make sure everything is ready just in case Patricia decides she’d like to come back down. In case she _doesn’t_ , he rigs up the basket and places her things into it before bracing his tail against the rock and lifting himself up. This particular cave had been a storage place of his family’s for years before he’d claimed it as a living space for himself, and Zed’s father had been the one to fashion a sliding hatch in the ‘roof’ of it. It opens easily and he puts the basket up into the lee of the rocks above.

He carefully makes up a bed that’s comfortable enough for both of them, should she want to share it, and gathers up blankets as well as materials for another fire. Zed begins to set out more parchment for her before reconsidering it – the last thing he needs is having a scroll released into the world that details all his inadequacies as a lover, because there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind that Patricia would write down _everything_. Zed shakes his head and hides it all beneath some linens, then takes a moment to survey his handiwork. The place looks tidier than it’s ever been and he swallows with difficulty upon imagining Patricia lounging on the bed wearing nothing but her skin. That creamy, perfect skin that’s so smooth and soft; he’d never dreamt that anyone could have skin that soft. Zed wonders what had caused the scar on her belly, then he wonders what it might be like to touch his lips to it before kissing his way down…. “Oh, Tina,” he groans aloud, shaking himself from the erotic daydream. “What a goddess-damned _mess_.”

The trip to his brother and near-sister’s island is longer than he remembers, though it’s been awhile since he’s gone and that’d been before _they_ took up residence there. It’s barely worthy of the title ‘island’ because it’s so small, but there are plenty of trees and at least one building structure – it seems as though they’ve restored the old shanty into something actually livable, and Zed has to admit that it looks nice. There are more types of plants and flowers than he remembers seeing. Zed surfaces a few leagues out to alert Helga to his presence before approaching, knowing that she’s the type to zap first and ask questions later – it’s never a good idea to get on the bad side of a Siren, especially when the Siren in question has some sort of lightning magic at her disposal. “Well, well. Look at this,” Helga says with a smile, tossing her braids over a shoulder and straightening from her studiously indolent position. Today she’s wearing some sort of leather and fur ensemble that she probably got from a dead body, Zed thinks.

“Hey there, Helga. How’ve you been?”

The Siren lifts one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “The same-old, same-old, I think you might say, but I am content. Teddy? Your brother is here to disapprove of you,” she calls. 

“You can’t say I started it this time,” Zed warns her. “I swear, the two of you were made for each other.”

Ted surfaces and immediately tangles his tail with Zed’s to try and pull him off balance. “Zed, you ol’ romantic bastard, you.”

“Keep your dang tail to yourself,” Zed warns, slapping the water between them to splash Ted in the face. “Who’d y’all drown to get this island?”

His brother rolls his eyes. “Oh, here we go again. Musta been killin’ you to keep that in ‘til now. That’s a new record, right Hel?”

Helga smiles and stretches out on the rocks, exposing a generous amount of blue-tattooed skin. “I am thinking that you would not know what to do if he only came to discuss the weather.”

“It’s a nice island though, ain't it? Got us a sweet deal on it, but maybe I’ll just save the story on that for later,” Ted says teasingly. 

Zed wonders why his brother is in such a good mood – usually they’d already be at each other’s throats. “It’s gonna be somethin’ ridiculous, I just know it. What’d you do this time?”

Ted lifts himself out of the water to sit at Helga’s feet, coiling his tail neatly. Whatever he’s about to say, it’s bound to be a doozy. This premonition is shortly proven correct as he exposes his teeth in a smile that would put a shark to shame. “Hey, Jeffrey? C’mon out here a minute, honey,” he calls out.

The door of the island’s sole house opens, and out walks the very same man Zed had last seen at the heels of the Handsome Sorcerer right before he’d been cursed… Jeffrey Blake. “Ted. For the love of fuck. What’s _he_ doin’ here?”

“My goodness, Theodore. He really _is_ identical…the possibilities are endless.”

“You’re fixin’ to get a possibility right upside your goddamn head, you keep lookin’ at me like that,” Zed warns, making both Helga and Ted start laughing. 

Blake sits down beside Helga, who drapes a proprietary arm over him. Ted leans back against both of their legs. “We were gonna drown his ass but decided to keep him instead.” 

There’s little doubt about what they’re keeping Blake around for, and everyone seems pleased with this arrangement except Zed. “This is unbelievable. Here I am sweatin’ ‘cause I mighta finally found a mate and then you got _two_ of ‘em. Have you lost what’s left of your _mind?_ The fuck you gonna do with _two_!”

“I think he might be jealous, _lapuska_ ,” Helga says to Ted, stroking her fingers through his hair and purposely leaning into Blake. 

Zed glares at her. “’Course I’m jealous; what the fuck! He’s over here with _two_ of y’all!” He intensely regrets ever having decided to visit today; what _was_ he thinking? Of course something like this has to happen! “I don’t s’pose you’ve got a way to fix what your boss did,” he says, shifting his glare to Blake.

“No, he don’t know nothin’ ‘bout that. Ain’t his fault you had to go and piss off the Handsome Sorcerer like you did,” Ted points out. “He was after Ned, anyway.”

Zed’s mood blackens irretrievably. “Oh, I see! I shoulda just let him go after Ned to keep my own skin safe – that it?”

“Well…”

“ _Well_ , that’s a crock of fuck-all! I don’t know what you learned growin’ up, but _I_ learned that family sticks together and protects each other no matter _what!_ ”

Ted just looks at him. “You can’t store fuck in a crock. Think you meant crock of _shit_.”

“I can put whatever the hell I want to in there; it’s my own damn pottery!”

He’s about to launch into another burst of outrage when Helga steps in again. “So, you say that you have found a mate? Who is it?”

“Why, you gonna poach?” Zed asks warily.

Blake looks amused. “I believe Ms. Steele would like a description of the person in question so your mate isn’t drowned out of hand should she cross their path.”

“Oh.” Zed supposes that this makes sense. “Well…she - no, I’m still ticked at you, Ted, so don't you grin at me like that! She, uh, she’s real cute.”

“Boy. That narrows it down-”

“I said knock it off!” Zed scratches his jaw thoughtfully, because there’s just no way to forge ahead without making himself look like an idiot. “Um. You ever hear of that weird-ass alchemist based outta Flamerock Refuge? Patricia Tannis?”

Recognition dawns in Helga’s eyes. “Short hair, green eyes, red coat, and goggles?”

Apparently there _is_ a safe way to describe her without embarrassing himself by mooning over how perfect she is. “Yeah. You know her?”

Helga shrugs. “I once tried to abduct her, but it turned out that she only came over to tell me how terrible my singing was. She was very detailed.”

“That’d be Patricia,” Zed agrees. 

“We will try not to murder her,” Helga says.

“Thanks.”

Ted decides that he’s kept silent long enough, and pipes up again. “Just how cute _is_ this alchemist, anyway?”

“You already got two, you don’t need a dang harem up in here!”

“Oh, cork it. Nobody wants your weirdo anyway – figures you’d pick some whacked out nutjob-”

Zed lunges for him and Ted’s casual lean proves his downfall, because he’s just not ready for Zed to grab his tail and yank him into the water. They do their best to murder each other, picking up more than a few bruises from indiscriminate whacks of their tails and Zed sends Ted back up to the surface with a black eye and teeth marks on his fins. Zed himself has a bloody nose and might be missing several strands of hair. Helga doesn't even bother trying not to laugh at the state they’re both in, though Blake is more circumspect since he’s the newest member of their little…whatever-it-is. Zed still can’t believe Ted has _two_ of them.

He stays long enough to heal himself and sling more metaphorical mud at his brother, then relents to clasp Ted’s arm in farewell and kiss Helga’s cheek. Blake receives a snort of derision and Zed’s third-best eye roll.

The swim back goes faster than the trip there, because he’s struck by the realization that Patricia might be waiting for him on shore and _what if_ she gives up and goes home? Zed makes it to the Unrelatively Unvisited Shoreline in record time, but she’s not there; whether she’s been and gone, or just never bothered to come in the first place, is something he’ll probably never know. Whatever it is, it makes his bad mood even worse.

Zed dives back down into the water, because no _way_ is he going to waste any more of his time sighing up at the cliffs like a moron, and catches a few fish to bring back to the grotto with him. He’s thinking about how, at the very least, he’ll be able to get his hands on different kinds of meat when his legs catch up with him again…when he realizes that there’s a very good reason why Patricia wasn't waiting for him on the shore.

It’s because she’s swiped someone else’s canoe and is waiting for him on the water.

She’s battling the currents, not to mention the wind, so Patricia doesn’t see him until he dumps the fish into the bottom of her boat. “Hey there, Princess.”

Zed’s forced to duck back down beneath the canoe when she whirls on him with her paddle held like a weapon. “Please do not startle me in such a manner,” Patricia chides when he comes back up and eyes her warily. “I could have accidentally bashed your face into a woeful state of unattractiveness.”

“Well, we can’t have that. You, uh, you want some dinner?” He gestures towards the fish he’s already given her and Patricia shrugs out of the blanket she’s wrapped herself in. Zed’s eyes nearly fall right out of his head when he realizes that she’s stark naked and intent upon flinging herself into his arms. “Okay, so no dinner.”

“Kiss me,” Patricia demands.

She certainly doesn’t need to tell him twice. “Yes’m,” he agrees breathlessly, catching her easily as she launches herself at him. Her legs wrap around his midsection and it’s a good thing Zed’s practiced keeping her blood warmed up because he’d be way too distracted to try it for the first time _now_. Patricia presses her pelvis against his, making Zed grip her bare ass so that he can hold her there. He kisses her hard before sinking down into the water with her, his mouth still sealed over hers. Lust proves to be sufficient motivation for her to practice sharing passionate kisses underwater, since he’s the only source of air she has. They kiss, and fumble at each other while Zed tries his best to get them back down to the grotto.

Their safe arrival is nothing short of miraculous, and Zed boosts her up onto the ledge as quickly as he can so that she can take a few deep breaths of her own. The spell is broken when she gets the hiccups and throws up about one gallon of saltwater. “Oh, no.”

“It’s okay,” he promises as she starts to wrap her arms around her chest and cross her legs, trying to make herself seem smaller because now she's embarrassed. “How’s this? I’ll make a fire and you go get dried off while I bring down somethin’ to eat…that sound okay?”

Patricia remains in her forlorn huddle, gazing at him over her knees. Those are some cute knees. “That would be acceptable.”

Zed gets the fire going and pretends not to notice that she’s still totally naked and hellaciously tempting, because it doesn’t seem like she’s trying to tempt anything but pneumonia at the moment. He’ll know when it’s time to _really_ appreciate her…well, hopefully. Right now he wants her so badly that even his _teeth_ ache. Having something to do – away from her – will help him calm down and focus on _not_ being a one-minute wonder.

Oh, Tina. What if he _is?_ That’s something he’d never even thought of! “No. No freakin’ _way,_ ” he says aloud, squeezing his eyes shut. The sooner they get this over with, the better. “I ain’t even gonna think about that.” Why would that even pop into his head to begin with? It’s like his own mind is actively trying to sabotage this for him.

“What are you talking about?” Patricia demands, reminding him that he hasn’t left yet and is now making a fool of himself right there in front of her. Her eyes are all squinty and that voice in the back of his head wonders if that’s the face she’ll make when he makes his triumphant debut as a premature ejaculator. _No, don’t think about it!_

“Nothin’, just…nothin’,” Zed tells her. “I’ma go see about tyin’ that canoe of yours up to somethin’. Which reminds me, whatever happened to the other boat you had yesterday?”

Patricia’s already settled comfortably beside the fire, wrapped up in a blanket so that only her eyes are showing. “I have no idea.”

They’ve probably wasted too much time already down here when he should've been securing her canoe and whatever else she had in there with her. “Okay, well…don’t pee on nothin’ while I’m gone,” he says, like the idiot he is.

“Certainly not. I shall wait until you return to do it,” she says, which makes him laugh. Patricia tugs the blanket down so that Zed can see her smile back at him. 

He just barely manages to retrieve the canoe after several difficult minutes of hard swimming, towing it back to one of the half-sunken plinths. Zed ties it up carefully, using a length of rope that’d been stored beneath the seat, and makes sure it’ll stay reasonably hidden from sight until he can bring Patricia back to it. It looks like she’s brought herself a change of clothing, too, wrapped in some kind of water-resistant bag. He’ll have to ask where she got it.

The thought that she’s waiting down in his grotto, naked and willing, makes him lean his forehead against the cold stone of the column. He’d promised himself that he wasn’t going to hold back his desire for her anymore and while he still doesn’t plan on doing so, Zed doesn’t want to disappoint her, either. Being too quick on the trigger is something that’s certain to do that but all he really needs to do is delay going back until he’s taken the edge off. There isn’t time for anything more drawn out than simply getting out his dick and pretending hers is the hand stroking it, but it gets the job done and he definitely feels more relaxed by the time he’s swimming back down to see if that’s something she’d like to do in the near-future.

Patricia looks happy to see him by the time Zed heaves himself out of the water, and he’s glad to have thought of bringing the fish back so it looks like he was busy with more than just rubbing one out by her canoe. “I didn’t think you’d wanna come back,” he admits, watching how she’s running her eyes over his body like he’s something good to eat and she’s starving.

“I almost didn’t,” Patricia says, letting the blanket fall from her shoulders to expose her breasts. “but then I remembered that I need your goodwill to regain possession of my research.”

The fish, Zed decides, can rot for all he cares. “Your research, huh? That the only reason you came back?”

“Of course. Why else would I wish to return?” she asks, and he can’t really tell if she’s teasing him or not because she’s got one hell of a poker-face.

“I, uh…well, maybe you wanna get laid?” Zed blurts. She’s not the only one who can be blunt, and he needs to know that she really _does_ want him - tail and all.

Patricia looks pointedly at the bed he’s made up for this exact scenario. “Are you going to fling yourself into the water to escape impending sexual intercourse?”

Tina Almighty, he really _is_ going to get some. “Not unless you want me to,” Zed tells her, feeling as eager as if he _hadn’t_ gone sneaking away to jack off.

“No,” she says decisively. “I do not want you to leave.” His tail has somehow wandered over to her and Patricia grabs it, reeling him in towards her.

Zed obliges her nonverbal demand by scooting over and drawing her into his arms. He casts an appreciative look at her body, all creamy ivory painted with the flickering amber light of the fire, before Patricia tugs his head down to hers and they roll onto the bed of piled blankets.


	10. Heart, soul, and all those boats I stole

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex. (that's it, that's the chapter)

Patricia curls her arms around Zed’s neck as their mouths come together, now frantic with the yearning that has encompassed them both. His hands move over her body, sparking into flame the banked fire which has smoldered beneath her skin for a distressingly long time. The coolness of his scales pressing against her skin is an almost shocking counterpoint to the heat inside her as Zed’s tail coils around her body. She kisses him hungrily as he presses close, sliding into the vee of her thighs to grind against her, and she wraps her legs around him to keep him from leaving. _Turning tail_ , Patricia thinks with a flash of amusement that fizzles beneath the weight of the desire that’s pulsing through her.

She briefly wonders if Zed is using his blood magic once again, but discards that thought just as quickly – no, this is merely the result of her own lust finally gaining an outlet. Patricia threads her fingers through his hair as he bites down on the column of her neck, just hard enough to make her pulse quicken even more. Zed nips at her neck and then runs his tongue over the reddened skin in a movement that soothes and stimulates at the same time. She’s awash in erotic sensation, and her enjoyment is only heightened by the knowledge that there is so much more for her to discover firsthand. 

Zed’s tail shifts its grip just enough to slide up the back of her legs, and he reaches a hand down to disengage one of them. “You like this?” he asks her softly, rolling them onto one side and holding her leg up.

Confused, Patricia opens her mouth to ask and her quick indrawn breath is exhaled again in a moan as Zed uses his tail for an intimate caress. He grips her leg just below the knee, keeping it bent so that he has enough access to draw his fins over her swollen labia. “I…I like that _very_ much,” Patricia gasps as he ducks his head over her breasts and draws a nipple into his mouth. “Oh, my.” She writhes against him and pets the back of his head in frantic encouragement the moment she feels the slightest hint of teeth.

“Gonna make you feel so _good_ , honey,” Zed promises, his rough whisper just barely audible over the sounds of the fire’s crackle and hiss. He lavishes attention on her other nipple and then his hand abruptly switches places with his tail. She cries out and grabs at his shoulders, feeling Zed’s fingers gently press against her sex. He rubs at her folds slowly to gather moisture and spread it so that he can use the pad of his thumb to nudge against her clit.

“ _Zed,_ ” she wails, digging her nails into his skin and leaving welts when he abruptly sinks two fingers inside of her. His hands are much larger than hers, but the sensation of being so _full_ threatens to spill her over the edge with no magic used at all. “Oh, I’m going to…to…!” Patricia’s eyes roll back in her head as Zed buries his fingers in her cunt up to the third knuckle, scissoring them and pulling on the nipple that’s still in his mouth. Her inner muscles clamp down on his fingers and she leaves another set of stripes on his skin as she reaches orgasm.

She slowly becomes aware of the eager manner with which Zed is rubbing against her, as well as his labored breathing when he moves his mouth up beneath her ear. “You make me so fuckin’ crazy,” he groans, slowly moving his hand away after pulling one last shudder from her. Patricia still feels dizzy from the pleasure he’d given her, and every part of her below the waist feels like she’s been struck by lightning – shivers are crawling through her and causing her thigh muscles to spasm intermittently.

“I want you to mate with me,” Patricia says dreamily. She tries to pull him up to cover her, but it seems that her body is still not working quite right so she ends up yanking at one of the blankets instead.

Zed’s pulse makes a startled leap under her other hand, which has landed on the side of his throat, and that helps her surface from her post-orgasmic haze. “Okay,” he says, the hesitance of his reply belied by the fever-heat of his skin and the extreme dilation of his pupils as Zed lifts himself up on his arms to gaze at her.

“Let me see it,” she says softly, remembering how flustered and upset he’d gotten when she’d framed her demand in a more bold fashion. “I wish…I wish to please you in the same manner.” 

His eyes darken further, and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he stares at her. “Gimme your hand.”

Zed curls his fingers around her wrist and guides it down to the smooth scales extending downward from his navel, releasing her just long enough for a quick movement that somehow pushes the scales aside. Patricia gasps at the feel of warm, thick flesh filling her palm, and cranes her neck for a better view. “Oh, my goodness,” is all she can say, staring in fascination at the very first penis she’s ever touched. “You kept this _hidden?_ How did it _fit?_ ”

“Um…”

“Roll over so that I can get a better look,” she demands, then pauses when all Zed does is stare at her. “Roll _over_. If you think for one moment that I am letting you stick anything inside of my vagina that I have not thoroughly inspected first, you are insane.”

Zed’s dumbfounded expression shifts into something that even she can tell is amusement. “You are somethin’ else, I’ll tell you that much,” he says with a laugh.

He rolls over as requested, and Patricia gets her first good look at his penis. It’s certainly well-shaped and the size bodes well for her continued sexual pleasure as opposed to the diagrams that she’d previously seen in her books on anatomy. There is, however, a great deal of difference between diagrams and the (quite rampant) real thing. The shaft seems to actually have _scales_ at its base, but when Patricia runs her finger over them she discovers that they’re a great deal softer and more pliable than the armor encasing his tail. Fascinated anew, she bends closer to encircle him with her fist and feel how the soft ridges of the scales seamlessly blend into warm, velvety smooth skin.

Patricia glances up at his face when he draws his breath in sharply. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” he’s quick to assure her, “You sure aren’t.”

She frowns thoughtfully and goes back to her close inspection of his genitalia, prodding with her fingers until Zed’s huffing and muttering gain her attention once more. Patricia looks at him to see that while she’s been enjoying herself in a purely scholarly fashion, Zed’s appreciation is something else entirely. “I’m afraid I forgot my earlier promise to bring you pleasure,” she says awkwardly, feeling slightly embarrassed for not following through on her heartfelt wish. “You made me feel quite wonderful, and I’ve let myself become distracted.”

When she starts to withdraw her hand from him, Zed stops her from doing so. “No, you…you didn't forget nothin’,” he says. “Here, like this…” 

Zed arranges her fingers into a fist encircling his cock, then wraps his own hand around hers to guide her. Patricia’s breath comes faster upon seeing Zed’s features, which until recently had almost constantly been frozen in a rictus of annoyance towards her, soften with pleasure as she strokes him. His hand falls away to grip the blankets beneath their bodies, the other sliding up her flank. She finds herself becoming almost embarrassingly wet as she discovers how intensely she’s enjoying this. It’s no wonder that some people wind up beggaring themselves from one too many visits to pleasure dens if it’s like _this_. Every slow pull of her wrist has Patricia wondering how much better it would feel if she simply straddled him and took him inside of her. “Please lie flat,” she instructs shakily.

His hand pauses in its avid exploration of her bare bottom. “You sure?”

She nods violently and he helps her settle astride his body, pushing himself up on his elbows to kiss her while his tail coils around her hips. “I will be most displeased if I give birth to any tadpoles in the near future,” she lectures, reaching to set him at her entrance.

“ _Tad_ poles–“ Zed’s indignant outburst breaks off into a loud, husky groan as Patricia begins to sink down.

She bites her lip and takes him steadily, waiting for the flare of pain that most texts have assured her will come but aside from the odd sensation of being stretched to accommodate her very first lover’s girth, all there is can only be described as pure pleasure. Patricia wriggles slightly and flexes her internal muscles, sighing with delight. Zed, on the other hand, looses a stream of profanity and clamps his hands on her hips to keep her still. The sheen of perspiration on his skin as well as the pained look of concentration on his face remind her that she’s not the only one experiencing a first at the moment. “Are you feeling well?”

Zed groans, and she can actually feel him grow even harder. “Yeah, just…don’t move. Just gimme a second, ‘cause…oh Tina, don’t _move_ ; I swear I’ll blow right now. _Fuck_.”

“You’re the one moving,” Patricia argues, although the sight of Zed just barely clinging to his self-control is making her grow even more excited. “My texts claim that doing this for the first time is painful, yet I feel no discomfort whatsoever,” she says next, letting her eyes drift shut. “It feels marvelous.”

Her partner recovers enough to grasp her hips and urge her down until her pelvis is flush with his. “Only hurts if you ain’t - _ah!_ \- excited enough,” Zed informs her through gritted teeth.

“Oh? Interesting…” Patricia wets her lips with her tongue and rocks slightly, leaning forward to brace herself on Zed’s impressive abdominal muscles. “Someone should…should….write that…down…” She soon learns that satisfaction is best gained though an up and down motion that isn’t dissimilar to the way Zed had shown her how to touch him. Zed’s tail is still tightly coiled around her midsection, actively supporting her, and his hands have resumed their feverish groping.

Patricia’s legs aren't used to this sort of exercise and when she admits to it, Zed flips her onto her back so fast that she’s not fully aware of what’s happened until he pushes inside her again. “You feel so damn _good_ , Princess. Wanted t’do this with you ever since I saw you down at the docks.”

She expresses her heartfelt appreciation for the thick cock spearing into her with every smooth, undulating thrust Zed makes. Patricia gasps, feeling the pleasure welling up inside of her sharply. Surely it’s impossible to reach another climax so soon after the first one. “Please tell me this - _ooh…!_ \- isn’t limited to the days of the full moon.”

Zed’s near-heroic efforts redouble in intensity. “Fuck you as much as you want,” he promises breathlessly. “Hang on tight now, honey.”

Patricia clings to him obediently and is soon muffling her screams against his shoulder as Zed loses the last of his restraint. He pounds her into an orgasm (so intense that later she’ll wonder if that really _was_ Tina in the cave with them), wringing embarrassingly loud howls from her as he drives towards his own climax. She finds herself too exhausted to think of tadpoles when Zed spends himself with a harsh groan, nearly crushing her to him as his final thrusts become so rough that she’s forced across the floor of the grotto. He allows himself to collapse atop her for a few moments during which Patricia struggles to breathe beneath his weight, but surfaces from his daze when she tries to push him off. “Zed, I cannot breathe…!”

“Oh, Goddess, Trish, I’m _sorry!_ ” Zed moves aside, falling onto his back with his arms extended and his eyes closed. He opens them after a moment, turning his head to look at her as he breathes deeply. “You okay? I’m so sorry-”

“Aside from having left my skin on the floor of your cave, I remain undamaged.” Patricia shivers and allows him to gather her close so that she’s sprawled atop his body, closing her eyes as another twinge of pleasure shoots through her at the movement. “I liked that very much.”

Zed’s arms tighten around her, and this time she can feel his blood magic sink into her skin to heal the abrasions he’d caused. “I didn't mean t’ hurt you, sweetheart, I swear I didn't.”

Patricia snuggles up to him, breathing in the scent of his skin and wondering how soon she’ll be able to persuade him to deliver a repeat performance. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve already communicated my sincere enjoyment of your sexual prowess.”

“I dunno ‘bout that,” Zed sighs. “I’m pretty sure I shoulda lasted a whole lot longer than what I did.”

“It can be _longer?_ ”

“’Course it can. It sure as hell’s s’posed to be.”

She pushes herself up to look into his face. “I’ve heard that many human males require rest for several minutes, if not an hour, before they are able to achieve another erection. How long does it take _you?_ ”

Zed’s only reply is to roll Patricia beneath him and start kissing her again.

By the time they finally peel themselves apart from each other, she’s had a very thorough (and incredibly pleasurable) sexual education. Patricia shakes her head at him when he offers healing, wanting to savor the aftershocks of bliss that still tremble through her limbs. She sits up and reaches for a dry cloth to clean herself with, but Zed does it for her with a gentle touch. He’s become quite solicitous to her various needs and with that in mind… “I don’t suppose you have anything to-”

“You hungry? I can go get you whatever you want,” he says hastily.

“That would be nice.”

Zed disappears almost instantly as she wraps herself in a blanket, gazing at the fire wearily. She should push a few more pieces of tinder into the flames, but she can’t find the energy to do so. During their many bouts of physical excess, Zed had healed them both which had restored enough energy to keep them going but they’d discovered that the process has diminishing returns when used so frequently. Patricia supposes that it’s just as well, because the emotional intimacy had begun to be a bit too much for her. She’d been increasingly worried that the marathon sex really _would_ cure Zed of his desire for her, just as he’d intended.

Patricia isn’t entirely sure how _she_ feels about the situation. She’d certainly enjoyed the physical aspect of it and would like Zed to remain sexually available to her, but a feeling of warmth had blossomed inside her at the gentle way he’d kissed her directly after climax…and the timbre of his voice when he’d used an endearment such as ‘sweetheart’ or ‘honey.’ She could _feel_ the former slurs being disarmed into tenderness; the thought that Zed could possibly use those very words as weapons against her at a later date is nearly overwhelming. Perhaps she should have taken more time to date so that she would have more experience with this sort of thing…but she’d simply never had enough interest to do so. Now that she’s found a potential partner that she is very keenly interested in, Patricia has no clue how to proceed.

She’s gnawing at the inside of her cheek worriedly when Zed swims back up, tossing his head to shake the water from his face. He looks sleek and handsome with his dark hair plastered to his skull. The streaks of white gleam in the firelight, and she sighs at how good he looks to her. Are his looks the only thing that draws her to him? Will she become immune once she’s been in his presence for longer than a handful of hours? Patricia feels distinctly unhappy at this prospect but, once again, she can’t really figure out _why._ It’s as if these are all pieces of a puzzle she can’t fit together, but she knows that she’s just not trying hard enough.

“Everything okay?” Zed asks, bracing himself on his arms and lifting his body up onto the ledge. “You, um, you look like you’re thinkin’ real hard about somethin’.”

“I am, but I am not sure it would be to your benefit if I were to share it.”

Zed coils his tail neatly in a spot where the water dripping from it won’t spread anywhere near her, retrieving his knife. “How ‘bout you just tell me so I can decide for myself,” he says calmly, picking up one of the fish he’d caught for her. Hooking the blade beneath the scales and shearing them off with quick movements, Zed listens as she blurts out her troubles. He pauses when she shares her theory about constant contact, and looks up to meet her eyes. “That’s somethin’ you’re worried about?”

“I have little to no experience with these matters,” Patricia says nervously.

The knife resumes its motion. “That makes two of us, then. I’m pretty sure I won’t get tired of you so I guess we’ll see if that’s true in your case, too.”

“You aren’t…upset? Whenever I would confess such a thing – well, not like _this_ because you are the very first male I have been intimate with…as you know, because I’ve already told you this and now I’m not sure where I was even going with this train of thought that has so thoroughly derailed-”

“What’s a train?” Zed interrupts. 

Patricia blinks in surprise. “I beg your pardon?”

“A train. Is that, like, s’posed to mean some kinda scientific whatsits?”

“Of course not. It simply refers to a continuous line of objects, or living beings, which are moving from one place to another.”

“Oh, okay.” He starts slicing into the fish he’s just descaled, and she slowly realizes that he’d purposely distracted her by asking. “So I’m meant to be mad ‘cause you’re tellin’ me the truth? Is that it?”

“Well, my family…”

“I already told you that I ain't your momma,” Zed says patiently, glancing up at her again. “You’re blunt as hell and it _does_ take some gettin’ used to…a lot of people ain’t even half as honest. Hearin’ the truth can get uncomfortable ‘cause most folks, they start lyin’ soon as they first draw breath. Not you, though. So I like that.”

Patricia stares at him thoughtfully. “If I asked you questions about your family…or anything else…would you tell _me_ the truth?”

“I spend most of my time pretendin’ that I don’t really exist,” he says, drawing the words out slowly. “Stayin’ alive means bein’ human, these days…it might be hard for me to be honest about it dependin’ on what you wanna know, but I’d sure _try_.”

“Why did the Handsome Sorcerer curse you?”

Zed finishes cleaning the fish and moves closer to the fire to cook them. “He thought he was cursin’ my brother. Ned ticked him off somethin’ fierce by makin’ zombies outta his knights. Jack was huntin’ him down, found me instead, and I _might_ have gotten a bit too mouthy for my own good.”

“It is good to know that I am not the only recipient of your social charms,” Patricia says, not surprised at all to find that Zed’s attitude had gotten him into this predicament. “Why did you not simply inform the Handsome Sorcerer that this was a case of mistaken identity?”

“He pissed me off, so I didn't say nothin’. Ain't like he woulda believed me, anyhow. Shoulda dragged his ass down to the ocean floor and left him there.” Zed sighs and turns back towards her. “As you might imagine, that curse’s done wonders for my good mood.”

Patricia thinks about this, decides it’s funny, and laughs. “If he hadn’t cursed you, perhaps we might never have met.”

“Yeah, maybe,” he agrees. “I guess some good _did_ come outta that… Uh, you think I could come over there with you ‘fore you get tired of me?”

“Of course. Come here.” She may not be up to another strenuous bout of lovemaking, but it’s nice to just be held. Zed’s tail twines around her with the amount of pressure that she prefers, and her head fits perfectly in the hollow of his throat. “This is very nice, though you _do_ smell faintly of fish.”

He arches an eyebrow as he looks over at her. “You better be talkin’ about dinner. Ain’t much else for us t’eat down here.”

Patricia rests against his broad chest, feeling contentment seep through her as she uses a finger to draw patterns over his warm skin. “Will you show me where you sleep when we both return to Flamerock Refuge?”

“Maybe. Gonna return the favor?” Zed slides his fingers through her hair, sending shivers down her spine.

“I’ve never invited anyone into my home aside from Eleanor.”

Zed’s hand slips down into the blanket she's wrapped around herself. “I'm a lot more fun than Ellie.”

“I do not doubt it,” Patricia murmurs. “Precisely how much longer do you have as…yourself?”

“I got a while, yet.” He shifts his grip and bends down to nuzzle at her, so she allows him to invade her blanket on the condition that his tail stay out because it’s still slightly damp. Zed laughs and curls it beside the fire. “Well, you shoulda said earlier.”

Patricia settles astride him and demands more kisses, which he gives unstintingly. “I like the white hair you have here,” she says, running her fingertips across the indicated area at his temples. “It is very attractive.”

“ _You’re_ very attractive.”

She’s unable to fight back a flush of pleasure; even though he’s given her multiple compliments thus far, Zed seems to honestly believe them and it fills her with warmth. “I have many failings.”

“Like what?” he asks, leaning forward to brush his lips against hers.

“My lips are abnormally large, my breasts are of uneven sizes, there is a large pattern of scar tissue that you appear not to have noticed gracing my stomach. I say the wrong thing at the wrong time. I like to argue for the sake of doing so.”

“Now _that_ I’ve noticed,” Zed tells her drily. “You gonna tell me what’s with that scar, since you brought it up?”

Patricia glances down at it self-consciously. “When I was younger, one of my cousins threw my favorite toy into a skag den because I’d inadvertently embarrassed him. I went after it, of course, but was badly bitten as a result.”

Zed places his hand over the raised pink scars. “Y’know…? I bet I could do somethin’ about these. Couldn’t make ‘em go away _completely_ , but there ain’t no reason why they gotta be so noticeable.”

“Do you wish that they were not as noticeable?” she asks.

He immediately shakes his head. “’Course not. They’re as much a part of you as your lips, which… a man sees those lips, I guarantee the only thing he’ll be thinkin’ is what they’d feel like wrapped ‘round his-” Zed breaks off his sentence, clears his throat, and looks away “ _-mouth_ ‘cause they’re perfect for kissin’ folks with. Seriously; ain’t nothin’ wrong with your lips or your chest, neither. But if it would make _you_ feel better…me fixin’ your scars, I mean… I’d do that for you.”

“I…I think that is something I would like to think about for a while, first,” Patricia says, again feeling a wash of warmth spreading through her. “Though I don’t understand why you would talk about kissing in that manner. One does not ‘wrap’ their lips around those of their partner.”

Zed frowns and looks away again, rubbing at his neck for some reason. She could swear that he’s actually blushing but that makes no sense whatsoever. Kissing is the least of what they’ve done together so far! “Guess it’s good that I got you here to tell me ‘bout these things, then.”

“Yes, it is,” she agrees, resettling herself into his lap. Well, what _would_ be his lap if he were human… since he’s due to regain that form in a few hours, Patricia decides that it definitely counts. Maybe she can get him to label the sketches she’d made for him so that she knows the proper terminology! Yes, that’s what they’ll do.

They both eat the dinner he’s cooked and, when Patricia laments the absence of utensils, Zed teases her by seizing her wrist and licking her fingers. When she starts to protest, he grabs a piece of fish and pops it into her open mouth. Patricia decides to retaliate by licking _his_ fingers and the silliness turns to smoldering sensuality when she realizes the effect she’s having on Zed. He feeds her chunks of fish small enough to swallow easily, and in return she takes his fingers inside of her mouth while his breathing grows ragged and his patience wears thin. By now, Patricia has a fairly good idea of what he'd really been about to say before switching nouns. _Mouth, indeed._

It doesn’t seem as if they have enough time for _that_ sort of experimentation, though Patricia does find herself interested in it, so she resolves to discuss the matter once they return to land. Soon, the fish gets discarded altogether and Zed coaxes her over to the edge. He slips into the water and, guiding her legs over his shoulders, proceeds to pleasure her in a way that she’s _definitely_ never experienced before. Patricia writhes and mewls under the thorough explorations of her lover’s tongue, trying not to put too much pressure on Zed’s ears before he finally tells her to stop worrying about it. When she achieves a climax so intense it feels as though she might actually be suffering from cardiac arrest, Zed lifts out of the water just enough to push her thighs even farther apart and fitting himself inside her body with a grunt of satisfaction.

She hooks her legs around his waist and hangs on for dear life as Zed drives into her, closing her eyes against the spasms spreading through her as their bodies connect sharply. Zed places one hand flat on the ledge beside her and the other keeps her in place as his pace quickens. Patricia holds him close when his breath escapes him in a rush and she can feel his shaft pulse inside her. His exhalation of contentment, however, makes the hair on the back of her neck stand up – instead of a wordless sigh, Patricia distinctly hears him say _I love you_. “Excuse me… _what?_ ”

Zed stiffens, and not in the way that has already thrilled her multiple times. “What?”

“You said ‘I love you.’”

“When?”

“Just now.”

“No, I didn’t,” he says, pulling away and sinking down into the water so that everything but his head and shoulders are submerged.

“You did; you said it.”

“I dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” Zed insists, dropping down further in the water.

Patricia stares back at his eyes, which are the only things left above the water aside from the tops of his bright red ears. “Perhaps I only imagined it. Come out of the water, now; the cold is making your ears red.”

He lifts a hand up to feel at them. “Did, uh, you _wanna_ imagine me sayin’ somethin’ like that…?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she snaps, tugging her blanket back around herself. “Of course not.”

“Oh.”

She sneaks a peek at him as he hauls himself out of the water again. “Did _you_ want _me_ to imagine-”

“Speakin’ of ridiculous,” Zed interrupts loudly. “Hey, I should get you back up t’your boat.”

Patricia gazes at him, sensing that she’s done something wrong yet again and wishing that she could undo it somehow. They should still be wrapped up in each other, enjoying the feeling of closeness that had come after each of their various trysts… instead, she just feels unhappy and has no clear idea _why_. “Very well, then.”

She huddles underneath the blanket while misery and uncertainty vie for supremacy inside her, wondering if he’d actually _meant_ that all she’d have to do is ask for him to share her bed. It had most likely been said in the heat of the moment, given his withdrawal from her now. Zed looks away quickly when she catches him gazing at her, and busies himself with dousing the fire. “It’ll be colder’n a wizard’s left ball up there, so you’d best get into your clothes quick as you can,” he says, still not meeting her eyes.

“I certainly had no plans on steering my canoe back to the Docks whilst in the _nude_.”

Zed actually looks up at this, a smile curving his mouth. “That’s too bad.” They look at each other for a few moments before he clears his throat and averts his eyes. “Ready to go?”

 _No_ , Patricia thinks. “Yes.”

When they reach the surface and Zed’s fingertips leave her skin, the cold comes rushing in and Patricia’s teeth chatter loudly. He immediately reaches out to place a hand on her foot, and they work out a method by which Zed’s maintaining contact with her at all times while she struggles into her clothing. It’s fantastically awkward – at times he’s forced to touch her forehead while she yanks her trousers over her damp legs, or he holds her bare ankle while she pulls on her tunic. He finally releases her and she’s still freezing, but to a slightly lesser degree; she’ll live, but she won’t enjoy it. “You need me to go with you?” Zed asks suddenly.

Once again she says the exact opposite of what she truly feels. “No. I will be fine on my own.”

“Oh. Okay,” he says. “I guess I’ll see you.”

“I suppose that you will,” Patricia says, studying his face in case she really _doesn’t_ see him. The uncertainty inside her tightens into a knot in the pit of her stomach. “Our time together was most educational. I enjoyed it very much.”

Zed draws breath to speak and, though she waits, all he does is exhale quietly. “Yeah,” he tells her. “Me too.”

She doesn’t watch him leave this time, however much she wants to.

The canoe is left approximately where she’d first ‘borrowed’ it after she paddles back to the Docks, and Patricia hurries up through the passage to Flamerock Refuge. All she wants to do is dry herself off and get _warm_. She tucks her chin against her chest and charges through the crowd gathered around the main bonfire – she’s almost to the bridge leading to her house when she runs straight into a large woman wearing her hair in buns over her ears. “Watch where you are going,” Patricia says indignantly. When she tries to step around, however, the woman moves right in front of her. “Move at once!”

The other woman looks down at her, looking unimpressed. “You run into Nina, _you_ say watch out? Maybe Nina teach you better manners…Zed rub off you in more ways than one way, eh?”

Patricia’s eyes widen at the mention of Zed. “What do _you_ know of Zed? Or rubbing, for that matter?”

Nina, as she’s apparently called, smiles and gives Patricia a hearty slap on the shoulder that nearly lands Patricia facedown in the dirt. “Nina know _all_. Also Nina see hair is wet and there is only kind of woman who swim during full moon,” she says, waggling her eyebrows expressively. “You take nice _long_ swim, yes?” 

“I…must go,” Patricia says faintly after she’s remembered to close her mouth. Slack-jawed astonishment isn’t a good look for anyone, least of all herself.

“You come back and bring warm blanket,” Nina commands. “Or else.”

Patricia hurries away, wondering what the ‘else’ part of that could possibly be, but there’s no doubt that she’ll return; if Nina actually knows about Zed’s…condition, Patricia isn't about to let this potential source of new information escape. Once she’s unlocked her door, she quickly changes into clothing that’s completely dry and towels off her hair before peeking out of the window. Not only has Nina _not_ left, but she’s now sitting right on Patricia’s front steps. “Who are you and what do you want?” Patricia yells through the crack in the front door.

“Bring out blanket and Nina tell you. Hurry before sun rises!”

She wonders what the sun rising has to do with anything, but the lure of information is too strong to resist – Patricia grabs a blanket, and comes out of the house. Nina immediately snatches the blanket from her hands and walks off with it, forcing Patricia to follow. “Give that back at once; it is not yours!”

“You follow, and listen,” Nina grunts, wending her way back through the late night/early morning revelers. She doesn’t actually continue talking until they approach the fortified passage. “Zed can be stupid boy and not know good thing when is dropped on him. He act silly and rude to keep you away, but Nina know he love you.”

Patricia’s eyes must be bulging from their sockets – she’s sure they are. “What ridiculous conjecture! He has said himself that I must have imagined- that is, your conclusions are deeply flawed and completely outrageous. I do not even know who you are or why you would choose to approach me with such…such _claims_ ,” she splutters.

Nina calmly shifts the stolen blanket onto her other shoulder to keep Patricia from making a grab for it. “Zed only have legs because of curse. Nina have legs because of sharing soul of mate.”

“You…you are… _also?_ ” Patricia feels faint. How many of them _are_ there?

“Nina from different colony; after meeting with strong man who want make babies, Nina take Timber as mate and get legs,” Nina says with a wide smile. “Babies not easy to make but is fun to try the making, yes? Nina think you make many tries with Zed,” she continues with appalling familiarity.

“But…how…?”

Nina chuckles and drops a heavy arm over Patricia’s shoulders. “Zed leave his scent all over to mark you so other tritons know to leave alone. _Very_ strong. He not mark if he not want you as mate.” She laughs again. “Is proof he love you, but Zed stupid and not want _tell_ you. So Nina save time and tell instead.”

Her head spinning from the sudden influx of knowledge, Patricia stammers out a rebuttal and somehow her mouth runs away from her. Before she knows it, she’s telling Nina - a perfect stranger! – about what had just happened between she and Zed. “It does not make sense that…he would not _admit_ …”

“Now Nina know why he love you. You are stupid girl, too, so make perfect mate for stupid boy,” her new acquaintance sighs to the heavens. “When undine or triton choose human mate, they share soul. Zed human most of time so he have soul most of time. He love you but not want take half of soul from you. You understand?”

Patricia starts to nod, but thinks better of it. “No. You are saying that he wants to…to _mate_ with me, but does not want half of my soul?”

Nina sighs again. “Zed already _mate_ with you several times. He choose you _as_ mate and want babies. He take half soul weeks ago and not know. Nina already say he stupid,” she points out.

“Half of my soul is _not_ missing-”

“How you know? You not using too much of soul anyway,” Nina interrupts rudely. “Nina know Zed long time and know he lonely – he needs mate for love times. Zed can be stupid boy, but is good man when trying to be. If Zed love you, then you special girl, eh? Nina think is better to _know_ and not waste time. It not cause trouble either.”

Patricia has a hard time believing that half of her soul has simply been taken all unawares, but since she’s spent most of the day gleefully divesting herself of her virginity with a mythical sea creature…well, she supposes she’ll have to take this on faith. “So the female of your particular species is not a triton? What was the word you used…?”

“Nina is _undine_ ,” Nina informs her calmly, still leading her back down to the Unassuming Docks.

“Fascinating. Are we friends now?” When Nina laughs and says that she supposes that they are, Patricia asks the question that’s been at the back of her mind ever since Zed had accidentally indicated the location of his genitalia. “How do _you_ copulate?”

Nina’s laughter is even louder and more prolonged. “Now Nina know why Zed like tricking you so much! _Ha!_ Nina tell you later. Now is time to take blanket and wait for him to come…you find Nina later and we have girl talk.” Nina shakes her head, still chuckling as she passes Patricia the blanket. “Zed tired and in pain. You give him blanket and kisses, everything work out fine.” Nina gives Patricia another pat on the shoulder (it’s more gentle this time and only rocks her forward an inch or so) before leaving. 

Patricia stares after her new friend in confused silence, then looks down at the blanket in her hands. She’s just been force-fed so much new information that running and hiding seems favorable, because there is a _lot_ to think about…such as the suspicion that Nina will most likely be watching to make sure she doesn’t run away. Patricia squirms in discomfort as her fight-or-flight instinct practically screams at her to make up her mind, and she tries to beat back the rising panic. She should go, and she should _run_ , but if she runs then she’ll still be missing half of her soul. Perhaps it’s better to face the miscreant who’d simply taken it without so much as a by-your-leave! Would he give it back? _Could_ he give it back?

She paces back and forth in an agony of indecision before her body finally reminds her of her most recent activities. She’s sore from the strenuous lovemaking, and still feeling upset because of the strain under which they’d parted… of course, thanks to Nina, she now realizes that Zed really _had_ meant what he’d told her. That’s most likely what Nina had meant when she’d told Patricia that Zed is in pain…because why in the world would he be physically injured? _She’s_ the one who had accommodated a rather large part of his anatomy multiple times and in a variety of ways, not the other way around! 

Drifting into a _very_ pleasant daydream concerning her experience with Zed’s anatomy, Patricia nearly falls asleep until forcefully awakened by several small pebbles bouncing off of her skull. She jerks in surprise and looks up to meet Nina’s formidable scowl. “You keep eyes open! Zed come soon,” Nina hisses, jabbing a finger towards the water before turning to leave in a huff.

Perhaps an excess of attitude isn’t a trait confined solely to the males of Zed’s species, Patricia thinks irritably. She was certainly proven right about being watched, as if she’s a child in need of guidance. Really! She wraps the blanket around her shoulders and stalks off down the beach, glaring out at the water. Forget hiding; she’s going to wait right here and give Zed a piece of her mind.

Her temper is still hot when, several minutes later, she finally catches a glimpse of her troublesome triton. Zed’s too far out to hear if she yells at him, so Patricia plops down on a slab of driftwood and rehearses her speech. He’s out there doing something by one of the columns, blissfully unaware that her wrath is about to descend upon him like a pregnant swooping rakk, but when she squints she can see that he’s actually getting dressed. Zed also seems to be _limping_ , for some reason.

Well, she’s still going to get him and he’ll deserve every single moment of it.

Patricia’s dark thoughts of revenge are put on hold when she realizes that Zed really _is_ in pain, and that it’s because of his legs. Normally she prefers to distance herself from anyone sick or injured, but she’s never before been placed in a situation where the person injured is anyone she actually _cares_ for. She can’t say for sure that she loves him because she’s never been in love before and wouldn't be able to tell…but the thought that Zed is in pain causes _her_ discomfort. She watches as he slowly limps through the shallows towards shore, pausing frequently to marshal the strength to keep walking.

When he’s close enough for her to go to him without having to wade in past her knees, Patricia yanks off her boots and does so – and because Zed is only focusing on where he’s going so that he won’t fall, he’s actually surprised when she slips beneath his arm. “ _Tricia?_ What’re you-”

“I’m waiting for you, you… _you_ ,” Patricia says, unable to think of anything more intelligent to say. “You are a thief and a scoundrel. So there.”

Zed tries to pull away, but he stumbles and Patricia flings her arms around his waist to keep him steady. “I ain’t the one stealin’ boats left, right, and center. The ‘scoundrel’ part of that is probably somethin’ I _do_ deserve.” She guides him towards her driftwood bench where he sits down and leans over his knees, breathing hard. 

“I brought a blanket for you,” Patricia says, throwing it over his shoulders. “You did not mention that the transformation was painful.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the Handsome Sorcerer for you. Seriously though, why’re you out here?”

Patricia reaches out to smooth a wet strand of his hair back into place and cups his jaw with her hand. “It is not every day that I lose my virginity to a grumpy seagoing oaf who then pretends not to have told me that he loves me.”

“I _didn't_ -”

“Yes, you did,” she says firmly. “I cannot in all honesty tell you that I love you, too, because I have no way of knowing whether I do or not. The feelings that I _do_ carry for you…they are strange, and complex, and I require time to examine them.”

Zed looks back at her, and Patricia can’t remember when she’s ever seen someone so completely exhausted. “Okay.”

“This does not mean that I am willing to forgo more sexual experimentation,” she says, rubbing her palm over the side of his face. He has stubble there, Patricia realizes. “Even if you are more comfortable wearing clothing during the act itself.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as he laughs softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Patricia feels another burst of warmth wash through her, closely followed by a euphoric feeling of relief. They still have much to discuss – the halving of her soul being paramount – but it feels so ridiculously _good_ to know that the earlier misunderstanding has been set straight. She meets his smile with one of her own and leans in to grant him the first of many kisses to come. 

Well. On _land_ , anyway.


	11. Dropkick me, Tina, through the goalposts of life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our hapless cleric tries to adjust to having an actual, 100% real person in his life. He'll get the hang of it eventually.

Life definitely has a way of surprising you by dropping you onto your own head, Zed thinks as they set out on the long walk back up to Flamerock Refuge. The familiar agony of his newly reconstructed legs has been muted by the pleasure of his present company – she’s trying her best to help support him and while he’s happy to let her believe that she’s doing most of the heavy lifting, he’ll be damned if he lets any mate of his carry him around. _He_ should be protector and provider, not the other way around! It’s been humiliation enough that she’s seen how weak he is immediately after the change, not to mention cornering him and calling his bluff. 

Zed had spent quite a while castigating himself for not having enough control over himself – no, he’d just _had_ to blurt it out. In his defense, it _had_ been hard to hold back. She’d felt so good and everything had felt so _right_ \- so he’d been stupid enough to say it and expect that she’d say that she loved him, too. It’s not easy to face the fact that Patricia might not feel the same way, but part of the reason Zed loves her so much is because of her honesty…all he has to do now is trust that things will work out. It’s _hard_ , leaving something like that up to chance; Zed is fully aware that he’s an asshole. _He_ wouldn't love him but here he is, hoping against hope that Patricia will.

Well, she doesn’t owe him a goddess-damned thing. If she doesn't love him, that’s _his_ problem. One of many, apparently.

They take a few pauses on the walk back and Zed finds each one as embarrassing as the last, but Patricia takes the sting out of the rest stops by snuggling up to Zed and scattering kisses all over his face and neck. “Why can’t you simply heal yourself?” she asks suddenly, watching him rub his legs to help the blood circulation.

“It don’t work like that when I’m… _this_.” Zed gestures to himself. “If I get a potion, then that helps but I can really only help someone _else_ this way.”

“Interesting,” Patricia says. “I would think that you might bring some with you to help with pain management.”

Zed glares at her. “No, really? Good thing you’re here to tell me what’s what. I ain’t _stupid_.”

“When have I suggested that you are?” she asks, sticking her chin out like she’s ready for a fight. “You are being very obstinate. If you truly wish to suffer this much, then you might have said so – I merely suggested bringing along one of your own medical concoctions.”

He forces himself to calm down, because there’s no way that she could know what it’s really like. “I _did_ bring a few. Somethin’ crushed ‘em.”

“Oh,” Patricia says. “That _is_ a problem.”

It’s not one of hers, though, Zed thinks. He’s still out of sorts at being caught in such a vulnerable situation as well as not knowing exactly where he stands (ha!) with her. “I’ll be fine. You could just go on t’your own place – I can get to mine okay.”

“That is a rather silly assertion. You need help, and I am going to help you if it kills us both,” she declares. “Now, we are almost there.” Patricia slings his arm back over her shoulders and drops into a dramatic-looking crouch before heaving upwards with a loud wheeze of effort. Zed lets her embarrass herself for a few more seconds before hauling himself to his feet in a motion timed to allow Patricia to think that she’s the one who’s gotten him up off of the rock. “There we go – I just hadn’t set my feet properly,” she says.

Zed snorts. “Dunno what I’d do without you.”

They reach his Apothecary without too many people seeing them, and Zed cautions her to let any onlookers believe that he’s drunk. “I suppose I cannot tell them the truth,” Patricia says, and insists on coming inside with him. 

“I hope you ain’t hopin’ for a repeat performance ‘cause I’m just not up to it…in any sense, if you catch my drift,” Zed says, feeling the pain start picking up again when she releases him to poke around his living quarters. His energy is also fading fast, and he just manages to stagger to his bed before collapsing onto it. Patricia comes over to touch his cheek, exclaiming in dismay over how hot he is. “Leave it, ‘s normal,” Zed yawns, suddenly so exhausted that just keeping his eyes open is a battle he’s not going to be able to win.

She busies herself with grabbing one of the blankets and draping it over his body, then tugs her boots off and climbs into the bed with him. “I am going to stay here because I am also tired,” Patricia warns, snuggling up to him aggressively. He never knew aggressive snuggling was even _possible_ , but here she is doing it. “Do not attempt to make me leave as it will go badly for you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zed promises her wearily. Despite his desire to be the one who brings _her_ comfort, right now just being this close to her is nice; he’s certainly not about to kick her out onto the street. Patricia’s fingers comb through his hair in a soothing pattern, spending the most time at the patches of white at his temples because she seems to really like them for some reason. The warmth of her body slowly seeps into his own limbs, the lingering pain of his transformation dissipates, and Zed falls asleep wrapped in the arms of his mate.

The shadows in the room have lengthened considerably the next time his eyes open. He’s also gained the most comfortable pillow he’s ever had, because Patricia’s maneuvered his head atop her breasts. Zed wonders if he’s died and entered the afterlife; his legs don’t hurt, his face is practically planted in her cleavage, and she smells better than ever. His dick makes a twitch of interest as he breathes her in, nuzzling against Patricia’s soft warmth; Zed isn’t fully awake yet so when his rapidly swelling cock brushes against her thigh, he can’t stop himself from shifting his leg over hers and rubbing against it. Pleasure ripples through him at each slow thrust, intensifying when Patricia makes a soft sound of inquiry upon awakening. She pets the back of his head for a minute before reaching down to open her pants, intent upon stripping them off entirely until Zed stops her and gently rolls her onto her side facing away from him. Though, he should definitely make sure she wants this. “You sure, honey?”

He can see the back of her head bob in confirmation even as she pushes herself back against him. “Please.”

Zed curls his legs up behind hers and pushes his leggings down just enough to free his straining cock, which slides right into her body as if it was made to fit there. They rock together, slow and perfect. “Could get used t’this,” Zed mumbles into her hair, feeling no particular urgency to move any faster than the slow thrusts that just seem _right_ , somehow. Neither of them has any place they need to be, or anything they need to be doing…and this is the first time he’s ever really been allowed to take his pleasure in his own time without needing to rush. It had been…intense…when they’d done this earlier but there’s bliss to be found here, too.

Patricia sighs his name and laces her fingers with his as she presses back against him. “This is very nice.”

“Mm,” he agrees. “Sure as hell is.”

Mindful of her near-virginal state, Zed doesn’t draw things out for too much longer. She gasps as he brings her to climax using his magic, and the feeling of her body tightening around him brings him off just moments after her. He stays curled around her with his face pressed against her hair despite how the short strands seem determined to find their way up his nose. Zed draws back regretfully when he softens enough to slip from her body, reaching to grab the first cloth he can find. Patricia peers over her shoulder at him as he gently tends to her, then wriggles around to pull her pants back up. “Your penis is smaller when you are human,” she says, which isn’t anything he doesn't already know, but her calm announcement makes him laugh.

“I feel like I should prob’ly be offended,” Zed tells her, “But it’s true.”

“ _Why_ is it smaller? Did the Handsome Sorcerer feel as though his manhood was threatened by the size of yours? Are most human males around the same length?” Patricia asks, rapid-fire.

Zed shrugs and finishes straightening his own clothing. “I dunno, maybe you should measure mine then go around town askin’ all the other men to drop their drawers so you can take a survey,” he says, reaching out to draw her closer. Then Zed realizes that his teasing suggestion might very well be taken literally, so he hastily adds, “I wasn't serious. Don’t go askin’ nobody that.”

Patricia just looks at him as if she doubts his sanity. “That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” She cuddles up to him, all the same. “It’s a pity that you cannot regulate both our temperatures.”

“Cold?” Zed reaches for another blanket to cover her with, wishing they were back down in the grotto where they could be skin to skin…and scales. “What’re you gonna do today?” he asks curiously, tracing the ridge of her spine with his fingers. One of her hands worms its way beneath Zed’s tunic and he lets her do it.

“I had planned on a full day of eridium research interspersed with being cat-called outside of Moxxi’s, and avoiding unnecessary conversation….but this is much more pleasurable than fielding unwanted sexual comments.”

“Thanks,” he says wryly. Patricia now has both hands under his clothing, and Zed wonders if she remembers at all that he’d said that he didn’t like it. Although, it’s not really that bad - which is strange because normally he’d find himself about to leap out of skin if anyone else tried to touch him like this. Still, having her do it after he’d told her that he wasn't comfortable with it… “Don’t do that,” Zed tells her, grabbing her wrists and pulling her hands back. “Thought I told you already.”

Patricia tilts her head back to look at him. “You probably did, but I wanted to touch you.”

“That don’t mean you can just ignore me askin’ you not to do it,” he says, trying not to get _too_ irritated because she’s recently gained the power to make him a _very_ unhappy man if she so chooses. “Just…don’t. Okay?”

She accepts the rebuke with a green-eyed, unblinking stare. “Very well.”

Zed feels too uncomfortable about the whole thing to just stay there and laze the day away (whatever is left of it), so he sits up and tries to think of a polite way to tell her to leave. “Look, I gotta change my robes an’ all, so…” he trails off and looks at her pointedly, but she doesn't get the message – she’s just waiting for him to finish the sentence. “So…go away, maybe? Please,” Zed adds, because of that whole ‘politeness’ thing he was just worried about. He might love her, but he needs to be alone for a while.

“I will leave,” Patricia agrees without sounding upset about it at all. 

“…for real?” He’d heard that women were supposed to get ticked off if you kicked them out…maybe he doesn’t know as much about women as he’d thought.

 _Nah._

“Certainly. I’m sure you wish to converse with your large female friend as soon as possible – she seemed quite worried about you.”

Zed swings his legs over the bed, thinking hard. “I don’t got no…wait, large? She have her hair up in buns?” It couldn’t be Nina, could it? Why would Nina be here in Flamerock Refuge?

“Her name was Nina, if I am not wrong – and I am never wrong, so that is her name. Her hair was also very peculiar, and she sounds like Marcus Kincaid.” Patricia sits up and stretches in a manner that makes Zed start to rethink sending her away. “Do you like popcorn?” 

“I dunno, I _guess_ …what d’you know about Nina? She talk to you about me?”

“Of course she did,” Patricia says, giving him a look that just _screams_ ‘imbecile.’

Zed stands up, intending to cross over to the window and see if Nina is lurking down in the street below. “Well? What’d she say?” The moment he gets more than two steps away from Patricia, however, the pain in his legs returns with a vengeance that sends him crashing to the floor.

“What are you doing down there?” Patricia asks. Zed is aware of her bare feet hitting the floor and when she kneels down beside him, the agony disappears as if it’s never been there in the first place. “You might need to work on your coordination, Zed,” she tells him.

The sudden absence of pain has left him gasping with the shock of it, and he slowly looks up at her. Something has just occurred to him, and he might as well test it while he’s still sprawled on the floor. “Walk over to the bed for a second, then c’mon back.”

“Why?” Patricia demands.

“Just…just humor me. Please?”

“You are a very _odd_ magical hybrid male, aren’t you?” she asks, but does as requested. This time, Zed is (more or less) prepared for the pain that descends upon him like the wrath of Tina herself. When Patricia comes back to him, the sensation shuts off as if it was never really there to begin with. 

Well, that's just _great_. "I don't got time for this shit," Zed sighs.

“What are you talking about?” she asks. “And why are you still on the floor?”

Explaining it to her is hard enough when even _he_ doesn’t really understand it, but since the pain is gone and she’s right there beside him, Zed’s body thinks it’s a fantastic time to get turned on again. He drapes his tunic to conceal the evidence, and finishes his impromptu lecture by telling Patricia that he has no idea if this unexpected side effect extends to her, too.

She wastes no time in slapping herself in the face, and Zed winces at the sound of the impact. “Honey, what the fuck!”

“It doesn't hurt,” Patricia says calmly.

Zed pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stay calm. “You move away, it will, an’ the entire village’s gonna think I thrashed the lights outta you!” He thinks for a second. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m gonna heal you and since we got this…whatever this is, maybe it’ll heal me too.”

He reaches for her, and his hormones immediately go wild. Hers seem about to riot, too, judging by the way Patricia grabs at him. “I can think of a much better way to make both of us feel better.”

“I’m still mad, I ain’t gonna do you,” Zed informs her, trying to squirm away from her searching hands before his lap calls him a liar. “You just keep your hands to yourself, Miss Tricia. That right there is off _limits!_ ”

Patricia gets her hand on his dick and gives it a squeeze. “What if I say, ‘please’ first?”

Good manners are definitely worth rewarding. “Okay, fine-” The apothecary’s front door shudders under the impact of several loud blows before Zed can leap atop Patricia. “What in Tina’s _name!_ ” Zed drags himself away from the willing, eager, and annoying arms of his mate…completely forgetting the pain that’s waiting for him to move more than a foot away from her. “Aw, fer-! C’mon down there with me,” he hisses, scooting back to her.

She gives him a look. “Who is it?”

“How’n hell should _I_ know? I can’t get to the damned door by myself, and what did I _tell_ you about your face! You look like I smacked you to the Flavor Cave an’ back again!!” Zed stares at the dark handprint on the side of Patricia’s cheek, already fading back into nothingness as a result of how near he is. “Sweetheart, that looks awful.” Down below, a second set of blows violently rattle the door – if they don’t get downstairs fast, whoever’s down there will break the thing clear off its hinges. He swallows another mouthful of pride and brings his least favorite word back out into the open. “Please?”

“I am not speaking with whomever that is,” Patricia informs him sternly.

 _Too damned cute for her own good_ and _mine_ , Zed thinks. He really, _really_ wants to kiss her again. “Deal.” They wind up going over to the stairs hand-in-hand and are about halfway down before Patricia tugs him over for a passionate kiss. “We’re gonna fall down the stairs,” he says breathlessly, pressing her against the wall.

“I don’t care!”

“Okay, me neither-”

“ _Zed!_ Open door _now_ ,” Nina bellows from outside. Well, that makes sense – he’d been thinking that someone’d been out there with a battering ram. Zed peels himself away from Patricia reluctantly and tows her towards the front door of his shop. Nina is just leaning forward to slam her fist against the door as Zed wrenches it open. “About time,” his friend grumbles, shouldering him aside on her way past.

“Hey there, Nina, whyn’t you c’mon in?” he says sarcastically – he’s not that happy about Nina tattling on him, and isn’t afraid to let her know it. “Maybe you got some other secrets to spill, why you’re at it!”

The big woman shakes her head at him and sniffs loudly. “Secrets not only thing spilling here, eh?”

Zed feels his face heat up. “That ain’t your business, so quit it.”

She chuckles and pats his cheek before turning her attention towards Patricia. “So, _lapushka,_ Zed is being good to you?”

“His sexual organ is much less impressive when he is in human form, so it is as good as can be expected,” Patricia says.

“I am _right_ the hell _here_ ,” Zed yells over Nina’s bellow of laughter.

When Nina finally calms down – and it takes a while, because she really thinks discussion of Zed’s penis size is hilarious – she notices how close he's standing to Patricia, and the reason for it. “Here, I heal you both for now.” She slaps the palms of her hands on both of their foreheads and Zed feels her healing magic rip through him like he’s been caught standing in a puddle during a lightning storm. The hair on his arms stands on end, and he pats at his head self-consciously.

“That is _much_ different from Zed’s,” Patricia says. “I like his much better.”

“Nina not know you long enough to make you feel _sexy_ ,” Nina points out with an evil grin when she sees Zed flinch as the jab lands. “Two of you sit down, Nina have news to share…Timber waiting, so this not take long.”

Zed declines to invite Nina’s mate in, too, because that’d be all they need. “What, you didn’t show up just to embarrass the life outta me?”

Nina smiles and makes herself comfortable, looking around the shop. “This place is such big _mess_ , no wonder you not have people come to see you…there has been man asking for you,” she says in a sudden change of subject, fixing her eyes on Zed’s face. “He say cleric heals like magic but with no spells. He _say_ cleric look like creature who is half fish.”

“Who is it,” Zed asks, feeling numb with shock. “No way anyone can know what I am. Whoever that is, is guessin’.” They’ve got to be, he thinks desperately. He’s always been so _careful_. How could anyone know?

Nina shrugs and, for what it’s worth, really does look sympathetic. But of course she would be because if _he’s_ caught, then there’s a very real chance that Zed might be tortured for information. “You not only one who look like you,” she says carefully, and Nina’s warning makes a lot more sense now. Of course; Ted. “There was shipwreck because of…rocks…and all sailors die, but only one pretend to drown.”

“And when you say _rocks_ , you really mean _Helga_ ,” Zed sighs. “Tina help us all.”

She sours his mood further by adding that Zed is being targeted because not only does his description match _his identical triplet brother’s_ , but that a certain barmaid has been spreading stories about miraculously being healed of a nasty disease. “This man, he _say_ he from Dahl Brotherhood…but Nina think he really from Cult of Vault.”

“Cult of Vault? What is that? Why would they want Zed? And who is Helga?’ Patricia asks, looking back and forth between them in confusion. “One of you needs to talk to me.”

Zed reaches up to flatten his hair against his scalp in a nervous combing motion, pulling his hand away once he realizes he’s doing it. “Cult of the Vault. Group of nutjobs what used t’worship the Handsome Sorcerer; crazy as hell. They…they look for folk like me’n Nina.” He curls his fingers up against his palm, squeezing hard until the blunt nails press in painfully. “They put us in cages ‘til they got a use for us, either in some travelin’ freak show or skinned to get turned into armor. It’s, um. It’s easier for ‘em to cut the scales off if we’re still alive when they do it.” Zed doesn’t say what happens to the rest of the prisoner’s body, because he doesn’t even want to think about it right now. Or ever.

“This man, he kill you if he know,” Nina says. “Must be very careful.”

“Well, I ain’t plannin’ on doin’ different. That all you wanted?” Zed asks, suddenly wanting _her_ to leave, too. It’s not Nina’s fault that she’s just brought him news he’d never wanted to hear, but it’ll be easier to concentrate on what he’ll have to do with Nina still around as an unwelcome reminder. 

His friend looks at him with a smile and a gleam in her eye as she changes the subject. “Not all…Nina want to know how well you do with new mate bond.”

Zed glances over at Patricia, who immediately folds her arms across her chest like he’s in trouble for something. “The hell you talkin’ about? We didn't make no _bond_. Well, I mean, we only…it was just…”

“You took half of my soul. _Weeks_ ago, and you refrained from informing me… to say nothing of _asking_ for it,” Patricia says tartly. “What are you even going to _use_ it for?”

“Half of - ! I didn’t take nothin’ from you,” he yells, then realizes what he’s saying. “Except... _that_ , but you wanted me too. Wasn’t weeks ago, neither.”

“Prove it,” she says.

“ _You_ prove it!”

“I will!”

“Go on, then!” Zed’s never felt so turned on in his entire life, what with the way her eyes are flashing and her breasts are heaving - _heaving_! Like in one of those dumbass scrolls for women when there’s some knight with a mysterious past! Not that he reads them. Strictly a ‘friend of a friend who heard it from a neighbor’ type of thing – but he’s not about to get hot and sloppy in front of Nina. Patricia looks like she’s either wants to tear his robes off or punch him in the face, and Zed is starting not to care which option she chooses because both seem good.

“Is side effect from making sex for first time,” Nina announces. “No heals for _that_.”

They’re both startled out of their mutual whatever-the-hell. “What _are_ you talking about?” Patricia demands, saving Zed the trouble of having to ask about it.

“After mating, there is urge for sex _all_ the time. Is why you so slow to answer door, eh?” Zed immediately denies this, but he’s sure his reddened face gives him away. “Is only impulse to make babies. Will pass in few weeks,” Nina says casually.

A few _weeks!_ He needs to be out doing his rounds, not spending weeks camped out between Patricia’s legs!

That _does_ sound good, though.

Babies, on the other hand…do _not_. If he were anyone else, anywhere else, then _maybe_. The last thing Zed’s going to do is to bring another child into a world where it’ll be hunted and butchered just for the crime of existing. _It’s a bit late to worry about that when you’ve already spent hours coupling with your new mate_ , a voice in his head reminds him. “Oh, Lady,” Zed blurts out, horrified that he’s been so blind to the probable outcome of all the sex they’ve been having so far.

Nina snorts and stands up to leave. “Nina go see Timber now. Next time, you be careful where you plant the seeds, yes? Good.” She gives Patricia a hug as she walks back out the door, and Zed is _definitely_ getting a headache.

“I do not think that it would be wise for us to create any offspring, at present,” Patricia says thoughtfully, looking over at where Zed sits in appalled silence. “Do _you_ want children?”

“I…don’t think we got a choice, if you’re knocked up already. You ain’t, though, are you?” he asks desperately. “We fucked a _lot_.”

Patricia’s thoughtful look gives way to slowly simmering outrage. “I _told_ you no tadpoles!”

“And _I_ told you I never done nobody when I got a fuckin’ _tail!_ ” Zed yells back, dropping his head into his hands as he tries to calm down and think this through. “I don’t think it works that way, anyhow. I dunno.”

She gets up to pace the room, finally coming back to sit next to him. “It does not seem likely that our species are cross-fertile, but you ejaculated inside of my body at least once after regaining human form.”

“Yup, I remember that,” Zed says. “All it takes is one damn time.”

Patricia’s whole body jerks as she startles herself about something. The woman is a trip, that’s for _sure_. “Oh! I just remembered that you cannot possibly impregnate me while a contraceptive spell is still active.”

He slowly turns to look at her. “Y’know, Princess, that woulda been nice to know _about ten minutes ago_.”

“Don’t yell at me,” she says, flinching away from him as she wraps her arms around herself. “Don’t…don’t say those things to me when you’re angry.”

Zed’s surprised to see that she’s starting to cry. “What? The hell’s wrong with you?”

“You called me ‘Princess’. And ‘sweetheart’”. 

“Uh…yeah…?”

Patricia looks up at him, beautiful green eyes full of tears that he's put there somehow. “Yesterday, it sounded different. B-but _now_ , you-” 

She chokes on a sob, and Zed feels like the lowest form of life that’s ever existed. “Sweetheart, I-” he feels ten times worse as she flinches again at the word he’d chosen. “I’m _sorry_ , Tricia, I _am_. I won’t never call you that again if I’m mad – that’s a promise. Honey, _please_ don’t cry!” Zed pulls her into his arms and she clings to him desperately while he strokes her back and rubs the side of his face against her hair. 

He’s keenly aware that his robes don’t smell that great and look even worse as a result of being crammed into that pillar for the last two days – he could also probably use a bath. When she cries herself out and seems calmer, Zed clears his throat and suggests that he bring up enough water for both of them to bathe. He’s got that huge tub upstairs that he doesn’t really use anymore; it’s easier for him to just sneak down to the Docks at night. “You would have to be completely nude to bathe,” Patricia says, sounding congested as a result of crying.

“That did occur t’me,” Zed tells her calmly. He’s not really looking forward to it…but she’s his mate. If he can’t let his guard down and be vulnerable around the one person he’s sharing a _soul_ with, then he has no business having a mate at all. “I’m a terrible, cranky old man who likes t’be alone sometimes. But when I don’t wanna be alone, you’re the one I’d like to be with. And if I gotta get naked, then I guess I can’t think of no one better t’be there when I do it.” 

_Stupid!_

“That was very nearly romantic.”

He opens his mouth to snarl back at her, but check the impulse and takes a deep breath instead. “Just you wait ‘til I _really_ start puttin’ in some effort.”

This makes her laugh, and Zed loves to see Patricia’s eyes light up. He just loves her, period. “I realize that you are not comfortable being unclothed, and I will strive to control myself around your small penis.”

“Speakin’ of romance.”

“I _merely_ meant that-”

“ _That_ I didn't hear no complaints when we were wakin’ up,” Zed interrupts. “Small, my left _tit_ ….!” He seizes her and starts carrying her up the stairs while she giggles like she’s just manipulated him into doing exactly what she wants.

He figures that, just this once, that’s perfectly fine with him.


	12. Little Miss Understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia and Zed try to reach common ground somewhere other than in a bedchamber, and meet with varied success.

The strange urge to couple with Zed has not yet run its course, but Patricia is quite literally having the time of her life because of it. Why in the world would she complain about the fantastically thorough education he’s providing her free of charge? Never let it be said that Patricia Tannis ever turned down a learning opportunity, she thinks as she regains her breath – Zed has just finished doing something quite wonderful to her. Of course, it was most likely because he wanted to delay taking a bath and not because he was compelled to do so…but she appreciates the effort nonetheless. “Come up here,” Patricia says, giving his hair a gentle tug.

Zed keeps his face pressed against her belly as he politely declines. “Nah, ’m good.”

“The water is going to become far too cold.”

“Quit bossin’ me! Ain’t I already said you could watch?” He grumbles more half-articulated complaints before sitting up with a sigh that is probably meant to gain her sympathy. It doesn’t work, and Zed’s eyes narrow when Patricia reminds him that the cold water will shrivel his penis into nothingness if he doesn’t get a move on. “Y’know _what_ -”

“Yes?”

“Nothin’,” Zed mutters, looking more surly than ever. He glances over at the tub and sighs again. “Look, I know you’re gonna want t’run your mouth when I take all this off. Could you….maybe _not_ do that this once?”

He turns to her, and Patricia takes a moment to wallow in the gaze he’s directing towards her. Zed has very beautiful eyes, she thinks. If they were to prove fertile together, their children would most likely have green eyes. “I can make no promises, but I will _try_ ,” she says.

“I guess that’s the best I could hope for, then,” Zed says ruefully, standing up and walking over to stick his hand in the water. “Still warm, too.”

Patricia pushes herself to a seated position and watches closely as Zed begins to disrobe, leaving a truly impressive mass of salt-stained cloth on the floor. There isn’t a single soul who could ever imagine what Zed has successfully hidden beneath all those layers, Patricia thinks as she runs her eyes over his broad shoulders and naked back. He doesn't look over at her, but keeps his eyes on the floor as he unlaces the bulky leggings and drops them around his ankles.

She finds her breath coming faster as she runs her eyes over Zed, and Patricia wants to tell him how the sight of his nude body is affecting her, but she’s forced to remember that he asked her not to say anything. He had been understanding when she’d been upset over certain pet names, and it’s now Patricia’s turn to show some understanding of her own. That doesn't stop her from wishing Zed were comfortable enough to make love with her like _this_ , however. It would certainly save him from needing to launder his clothing so often. Patricia realizes her mouth is opening to share this wisdom with him and clamps her lips together again hurriedly.

Zed finally glances over at her as she’s busily fantasizing about bathing him with her tongue – a _second_ bath, of course. Patricia isn’t in the habit of licking the bare skin of filthy men, no matter how sexually inviting they are. Zed would definitely have to bathe with soap first. “Okay, _what_.”

“I want to lick you.”

“Why’d I even ask?” he asks no one in particular. “Just, _shush_.”

Patricia watches him step into the bathtub and sink down into the water while making a noise that she’s only ever heard him voice during lovemaking. She flings her head back against the bedding and presses her legs together tightly. “How much longer before I can go about my business without feeling like this?” She complains, squeezing her eyes shut against the sight of him, her gloriously nude and unfairly attractive mate. _Mate_. Patricia still finds it hard to believe that she’s _anyone’s_ mate, let alone his. Especially after his brazen theft of half of her immortal soul – because, really, how rude is that?

She can hear Zed as he begins to wash himself slowly. Too slowly; he’s obviously well aware of the torment he’s inflicting upon her, and wants to ratchet up the tension. “Feelin’ like _what_ , exactly?”

“We’ve just finished copulating, but all I wish to do is begin it again,” she says in frustration, sitting up and glaring at him. She _had_ been thrilled over their situation, but she’s definitely seeing the downside of it now.

He frowns right back at her. “Thanks for bein’ so happy about it.”

“I would be _happy_ if you would stop lounging about in the bath and emerge to fulfill my sexual needs,” Patricia snaps. “As it is, I have to make use of your secondhand bath water which is about as far from sanitary-”

“Considerin’ where my _mouth_ was about five minutes ago, you don’t got no room to complain!”

“You are very tempting when you are angry,” she reminds him.

Zed’s eyebrows draw together in irritation. “Yeah, well, so’re you. So quit it.”

Patricia lunges to her feet and stalks towards the tub, feeling scant satisfaction in the way that Zed sinks down into the water. “I am going to bathe with you.”

“The fuck you will! You just keep your evil ol’ self out there; you can wait a couple minutes. If it was such a big deal, maybe you shoulda washed up first ‘steada wagglin’ your hind quarters at me like a skag in _heat_ \- whoa, whoa! I said go away…!” 

She leaps into the tub and the ensuing battle causes water to slosh out onto the floorboards. When they stop fighting, even _more_ water ends up outside the tub rather than in it as they work off their irritation with each other in a delightfully vigorous manner. “This is very inconvenient,” she whispers at him once they flounder to a halt and the last waves of water go slopping over the edge.

Zed has his head tipped back on the rim of the tub, with his eyes closed as one of his hands idly stroke her back. He doesn’t seem at all concerned that he’s fully nude, and has been that way for several minutes. “Yup. What’re we gonna do about it?”

“We cannot spend the next few weeks in bed with each other,” Patricia says the obvious, reaching a hand up to pick a strand of Zed’s chest hair from her mouth. How had it _gotten_ there? Disgusting. “I suggest spending a set amount of time apart, after which we may both come together to relieve our mutual craving.”

Zed hums in a noncommittal manner, still rubbing her back. “I guess we could try it. Not right _now_ , though…”

Of course he doesn’t want to implement her plan right away; he’s not the one on top who is on the receiving end of some very persistent drafts. If only Zed could be persuaded to curl up with her beneath a few blankets, her life would be perfect for about ten whole minutes. “I am naked, and I am _cold_ ,” Patricia tells him regretfully, sitting up and watching him process the fact that he is in the same situation. Zed helps her out onto the floor, where she almost dies as a result of slipping in a puddle of water, and once again she finds herself amazed by how quickly he can dress himself. “It would be nice if you were not so self-conscious of your nudity as a human male,” Patricia says wistfully as the last tantalizing bits of his bare skin disappear behind the concealment of clean white robes.

“It’d be nicer if I didn’t have to _be_ a goddess-damned _human male_ ,” Zed scowls. “I s’pose you’re gonna tell me that you liked it better ‘cause I was naked.”

Patricia looks up at him, vaguely aware that she has the very real power of giving Zed an inferiority complex. “It was cleaner, that much is certain,” she says truthfully. “What I liked _better_ can only happen during the full moon.”

She wonders why such a statement would cause him to turn so red. The color is particularly striking against the white of his clothing. “For real?”

“Your scales are very pretty.”

“I ain't _pretty_ ,” Zed huffs. “Get some clothes on.”

Patricia rolls her eyes at him, because she’s already tugging her underthings back on. “These impulses will doubtless be impossible to control if you go gallivanting around Pandora without me, so I've decided that I shall accompany you.”

“You’ve _decided_.”

“Well, _someone_ had to.”

Zed gets to work mopping up the spilled bath water, not saying anything for such a long time that she's sure he must be sleepwalking. Why else would he allow her the last word? “I’ve got stuff needs doin’ in town here tonight and the mornin’. Scheduled to visit the Forest after that, then the Mines. Get your crap together quick as you can.”

Patricia waits for the barrage of rudeness that surely must be forthcoming, but Zed remains silent. “Is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“You’re not going to insult me?”

He glances up from his task. “You want me to?”

“No.”

“Then count your blessin’s and get your rump outta here, ‘cause I’m busy...” Zed pauses before giving her a quick smile. “…Princess Tannis.”

She smiles back and finishes pulling her boots on, then leaves. Patricia hears him expelling his breath loudly as she walks down the stairs, wondering at his mood swings. On her way home, she’s hailed by Ellie who is full of gossip about the new couple in town, and barely manages to extricate herself from the conversation without betraying Zed’s secret. Patricia has never really _had_ a secret that could endanger someone, and the keeping of it is proving quite stressful.

Ellie has proven her worth as a friend countless times and Patricia would dearly love to confide in her, but at the moment she can’t even tell her about having sex with Zed in _human_ form let alone as a triton. For now, she’s on her own.

Patricia unlocks her door and steps inside with a vague feeling of unease washing over her – it’s almost as if someone has been there while she was beneath the waves and losing her virginity in spectacular fashion to a man with a tail. She narrows her eyes as she scans the dim-lit interior, looking for signs that there’s been an intruder. Everything seems as though it’s in the same location, however, and there’s no real reason to believe that someone has actually invaded her private space. Perhaps it’s only because she’s so worried about the burden of knowing Zed’s true identity. Yes, that’s probably it.

She checks under the bed (and inside every space big enough to conceal anyone larger than a six-week-old infant) before reassuring herself that her inner sanctum hadn’t been penetrated at all. At least, the one in her _house_ hadn’t been, Patricia thinks humorously. Of course, merely thinking about it makes the itch for physical contact begin anew, but she grits her teeth and tries to focus on what she needs to pack. There will be time enough for sexual gratification when she’s alone with Zed on one of his absurd pilgrimages around Pandora… he’ll most likely pull her right into the bushes! Patricia would have a blanket ready for such a possibility, however, and she’d make him spread it across the undergrowth before things progressed any further. For the sake of expediency, she’d go to her hands and knees while Zed came up behind her and-

Patricia jerks out of the erotic daydream and fans herself frantically. “There is no need for me to return to the apothecary just yet,” she says aloud. “Stray thoughts do not count as an overwhelming compulsion.” She’s there to pack, not to fantasize about the sinfully handsome man across town who is far too skilled in bedplay for Patricia’s peace of mind. Really, how can it be possible for one man to be so inviting right up to the moment that he opens his mouth to speak?

She thinks about the feelings that Zed has woken inside her, that have absolutely nothing to do with how sexually attractive she finds him. There’s irritation, of course…Patricia will most likely never run dry of _that_. Admiration is there, too, because she _is_ impressed at how he’s managed to thrive in his current condition. She takes a moment to realize the pun she’s just thought of, and wonders if Zed would laugh if she told him about it.

Probably not.

Patricia quickly folds up a few outfits (not that she’s in possession of many) and slides them into another of her oilskin bags, reexamining her reaction to seeing Zed in pain. She’d felt upset that he was hurt, and had wanted to help him…and she’s not the kind of person to whom sympathy comes easily. If she adds all this to the feelings of hurt when Zed had misused the pet names she’d come to associate with emotional pleasure – and the nebulous joy she feels whenever he treats her tenderly, then her protest about not knowing if she loves him or not becomes less viable.

Maybe she should return to Ellie and unburden herself; her friend would know what to do. Although…Patricia _herself_ knows what to do. What she really wants is for someone else to confirm it, so that she has someone to blame if it all goes horribly wrong. Or, to be more precise, _when_ it does. For now, it’s better just to wait and see what happens. If they drift apart once the sexual compulsion part of their bond dissipates, then Patricia will have a definitive answer. This might not be all that fair to Zed, given his own emotional state, but it’s the best she can do right now until she can fully come to terms with a surprise interspecies commitment.

She'd hoped to meet up with Nina and glean more information from her new friend, but it seems as though the undine has left without a single word – Ellie had mentioned that they’d rented a room in one of the inns, but that no one knew exactly where they _are_.

A knock on her door distracts her from further thoughts of the invasive questions Patricia plans to ask once she manages to get Nina in front of her once more. She peeks around the heavy drapes covering the windows to see that Zed himself has come to call, and is standing at her door tapping a scroll against the palm of his hand. She decides to open the door on account of the scroll – the man himself could just swim right off to Elpis, thank you very much – because it looks as though Zed has retrieved the writings she’d compiled about his anatomy and physiology.

“Give it to me at once,” Patricia says upon unlatching the door and opening it to face him.

Zed raises his eyebrows at her. “’Scuse me? That’s a piss-poor way t’ask for sex, ain’t it?”

“I was talking about the _scroll_ , you ingrate. Give it here!” She reaches for it and he whisks it out of reach.

“See, this’s probably why we’re meant t’be bangin’ each other’s brains out right now – you weren’t even gone away for two hours, an’ your manners’re more sour than a three-day-old cup of orc milk. You gonna let me in so’s I can give it to ya?”

Patricia glowers at him. “The scroll?”

“That, too,” Zed grins, waggling the scroll at her teasingly. “C’mon, lemme see where you live. We’re basically married, so you might as well.”

“We are _not_ married,” she hisses, looking around wildly to make sure no one else is hearing this. “Get in here, and be _quiet!”_ Patricia seizes a handful of his robes and yanks him inside her home. Once the door is slammed behind his annoyingly shapely backside, she holds him at bay with a hand on his chest as Zed tries to kiss her. “Keep your lips to yourself.”

He lunges for her again and Patricia dodges, backing towards her bedroom. “Why’re you doin’ this? You don’t want me, all of a sudden?” Zed asks. “Maybe you just like t’fight. Told you I was still gonna fight with you, didn’t I?”

“Put the scroll down slowly,” she directs him, still leading Zed to where she wants him while making it seem as though he’s the one in control. If she gives in to her urges anywhere but the bedroom, it could be disastrous for the myriad experiments she’s conducting. Years of research could be lost due to one ill-timed ecstatic muscle spasm. “Don’t _touch_ anything!”

Zed calls her heartless and cruel, all the while stalking towards her purposefully. It's all very manly and quite arousing, if she’s honest. He stops suddenly and smiles. “Fine. You don’t want me touch nothin’, then I won’t.” His eyes narrow and his face takes on a look of intense concentration, as though something is supposed to be happening. Patricia feels the first flutter of his magic inside her and she stares back at him, determined to win this battle. 

Or whatever it is.

“I don’t know why you’re staring at me like that – are you trying to remember a time when you were nothing but a mannerless, misogynistic lummox? It wasn’t that long ago.” Her knees are slowly but surely turning to goo; she’s going to collapse, and then he’ll know that she isn’t immune to his magic after all.

Zed _pushes_ it at her, looking slightly puzzled when she doesn’t react. “I don’t hate women, I just think y’all’re nothin’ but trouble. There’s a difference.”

Patricia reaches out to press her hand against the doorframe and attempts to act casual. “I’m sure that you think so.”

He laughs and takes a step closer. “Y’know, what I _think_ is that you’re less than ten seconds away from losin’ your grip on that door and jumpin’ right on my dick. How ‘bout we save some time and just fuck right now?”

“I find that acceptable,” she breathes, beckoning to him urgently. “Don’t break anything,” Patricia adds as an afterthought as he’s tossing her onto the bed and they’re both grappling with their clothing. “Perhaps I should start wearing skirts for the rest of the week.” Zed agrees fervently.

When they finally separate and lie next to each other panting with exertion, Patricia asks him what they’re supposed to be doing together – aside from the obvious, of course. “Well, uh, I gotta do my rounds and visit some folks that can’t make it up _here_. It’s usually small stuff, like colds or broken bones. Sometimes there’s babies needin’ to be delivered. Couple of dumbasses half-eaten by Orcs. Just things like that.”

“How will _I_ fit into this scenario?” She wonders. “I am not trained as a healer.”

“You don’t gotta do nothin’, I’ll just tell ‘em you’re my apprentice.”

She rolls over to face him. “I am _not_ your apprentice, and have no interest in being so.”

“I know it,” Zed assures her. “It’ll just make my patients feel better ‘bout havin’ you near, that’s all.”

“Would you let me inject anyone with anything?”

“Not gonna happen.”

Well, it was worth a try. “I fully intend to continue my fieldwork. This is not going to be only routine exams and sexual congress in the bushes.”

“Why would we fuck in the _bushes_?” Zed wonders. “We could just do it right in the road…”

Patricia hits him with her pillow. “I’m serious. My eridium studies are not going to be halted to satisfy your rampaging libido.”

Zed laughs and reaches out to grab her, pulling her close. “Honey, you can study eridium ‘til the spiderants come home – long as you study _me_ sometimes, too.” He nuzzles at her neck. “This is some place. You got all kindsa stuff here; what’s it all for?”

She’s flattered into explaining her various experiments and basks in Zed’s seemingly unfeigned interest even as she wonders when he’ll decide to say something cruel about it. “I suppose you still have tasks to complete before our departure,” Patricia says, “and I highly doubt that you care one way or the other about my work as an alchemist.”

“Now, that ain’t fair at all. I asked you ‘bout it, didn’t I?” Zed sits up with a frown. “Princess, what’s goin’ on with you?”

There’s no way to adequately explain the maelstrom of conflicting emotions within her, because even she is having trouble locating the real problem. “I am still trying to figure it out,” Patricia admits. “But it might help if you were a little more constant in both insults as well as tenderness.”

He looks at her silently for several long seconds. “You want me t’go?”

“That is not what I asked of you.”

Zed rubs his hand over his mouth thoughtfully. “Okay. I, uh…I actually think I know what’s wrong, anyhow. This’s like when you got upset ‘cause I called you ‘sweetheart’ while I was still mad, ain’t it? I mean, it’s _kinda_ like it,” he qualifies when she opens her mouth to object. “Look, I really don’t mean t’be…well, _mean_. It’s just force of habit, I guess, so folks don’t get too close. I swear I’m tryin’, Trish, honest to goddess I am.”

“I suppose I could attempt to practice patience. It _has_ only been four days,” Patricia says graciously. “Do you still love me, or have you changed your mind?”

Zed reminds her that it has indeed only been four days. “I figure it’ll take longer’n that ‘fore I’m sick of you, crazy lady.” He changes the subject by asking about her travel preparations and they move onto safer ground. Zed also gets up to retrieve the scroll he’d brought with him, and it so happens that it’s not just a single scroll but several of them carefully rolled up in one. “Some of these maps’re real old and I figured if you compared ‘em to a newer one…well, what if they could help you find your rocks somehow? Since eridium grows underground, and we’re goin’ through the Mines of Avarice, maybe somethin’ shifted and the dwarves forgot about it?”

Patricia stares at the maps, noting that there is indeed one of the Immortal Woods, and looks back up at him. “That is… _very_ thoughtful of you.”

“I said I was tryin’,” he mutters, rubbing at his neck and looking away.

Yes, he certainly had, and she thinks better of him for it.

In the morning, they set out on their journey. Zed leaves first to maintain the entirely unnecessary illusion that they _aren't_ sleeping together, because he still seems to think that she cares about her reputation. He’s obviously never asked anyone what they think of her, and seems to have completely forgotten his own reaction to her when they’d first met. Still, Patricia supposes that it’s sweet. If you liked that sort of brainless male behavior.

After checking the door locks for the tenth time, she shoulders her own pack and heads across the bridge into town, stopping to speak with Ellie. “I will be gone for a week or perhaps longer, so please ensure that my house comes to no harm,” Patricia requests formally.

“Goin’ for a week or two? Sure, hon, I’ll keep an eye out. Where ya goin’, if it ain’t a secret…and even if it is, you’d tell your girl, right?” Ellie asks with a smile.

“I am ostensibly going in search of a vein of raw eridium,” Patricia explains, “But I will also be traveling with Cleric Zed and enjoying the pleasures of his muscular body. He is waiting for me down at the Docks, so I really must go-”

Ellie’s eyes round in surprised glee. “You ain’t goin’ _nowhere_ ‘til you tell me all about it,” she shrieks. “Drop that bit of news on me ‘fore runnin’ off? No _ma’am!_ I need juicy details, and I need ‘em yesterday! Goddess alive, if this ain’t the hottest gossip Pandora’s ever heard! _Girl!_ ”

“I really must leave…”

“Then I’ll walk with ya while you tell me all ‘bout it,” Ellie decides. “C’mon now, how is he in bed? He actually take them robes off for ya? This is wild as _hell_ , I just can’t believe it…!”

They walk towards the tunnel leading down to the Unassuming Docks. “He is very vigorous for his age,” Patricia attempts to explain.

“Yeah, but does he get naked? I heard,” Ellie says conspiratorially, “that he don’t never take nothin’ off for the deed. Sometimes he’ll go with one of Moxxi’s girls, and I’ve overheard ‘em talkin’ about it, sayin’ he’s nice as can be otherwise.”

Patricia decides that she doesn’t really like hearing that Zed frequents a bordello like Moxxi’s, but she knows that it’s the logical choice when he needs to satisfy his urges. he hadn’t kept his habits a secret from her at all, but it doesn’t mean she has to enjoy it. “While it is true that Zed doesn’t normally feel comfortable being unclothed in front of others, I have seen him nude many times. The most recent occurrence being in the bath.” The mere memory of it makes her rub a hand over her collarbone. “The sight was very…inspiring.”

She didn’t think it was possible for Ellie’s eyes to grow any larger, but there it is. “You gotta be somethin’ special, then. _Damn_ , Patty! You hooked the biggest fish in the dang pond.”

“Zed is not a fish, as he keeps reminding me.”

“How’d it even _happen?_ Last I knew, both of y’all couldn’t stand each other! Was it, like, hate fuckin’ or somethin’ like that? That’s some good shit right there, lemme tell ya what.” 

“I thought you were on good terms with Paxton,” Patricia wonders.

Ellie laughs. “Axton. And sure, he’s sweeter’n sin in church, but ain’t nothin’ like an argument t’get you goin’. And boy, can that man get _goin’!_ Guess you know all about that now, too, huh?” She nudges Patricia’s ribs suggestively, and she laughs again as they walk from the tunnel to find Zed leaning against the rocks. “Hey there, loverboy!”

Zed’s face shifts into an expression of severe irritation. “You just _had_ t’open your mouth. Thanks a fuckin’ _bundle_.”

“It was nothing, I assure you,” Patricia says sweetly. He really is twice as handsome when he’s in a bad mood.

“So I guess y’all really _are_ single together,” Ellie teases. “Good thing I was here t’let ya know she’s right for you.”

Zed sighs loudly. “Yeah, Eleanor, I dunno _how_ I ever got along ‘thout you in my life.”

“Oh, y’know. No need t’thank me.”

“That’s good, ‘cause I ain’t gonna.”

“So,” Ellie says conversationally, winking at Patricia, “How often y’all do it? It’d better be more’n once, Zed, ‘cause my girl here is in desperate need of some good dick.”

Zed stares at both of them. “That ain’t none of your busin-”

“At least four times a day,” Patricia says thoughtfully. “Sometimes more.”

“ _Tricia!_ ”

“You _go_ , girl! I wondered why you was walkin’ funny,” Ellie hoots. “Zed, you can’t just ride her into the damned _ground_.”

“We’re _leavin’_.” Zed stomps off, his face an impressive shade of red that borders on purple, and they take a moment to laugh at his discomfiture before Ellie gives her a hug and tells her to behave herself.

Patricia hurries after Zed, and she’s able to tell from the set of his shoulders that they’re about to have yet another argument. “She said I caught the largest fish in the pond,” Patricia tells him. “Why are you so angry?”

Zed takes a while to speak and when he does, he declines to look at her. “D’you happen to recall who Ellie’s momma is? If you do, maybe you can think about what kinda business Ellie’s momma runs. Then think on the fact that Ellie’s bound t’spill the beans to Moxxi, who’ll _then_ tell her girls that they just lost a payin’ customer.”

“I would certainly _hope_ that you would discontinue your patronage. This way, they will be less likely to extend an invitation and _you_ will be less likely to accept such an invitation.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat. “Leavin’ aside the insult that you think I’d fuck around with _anyone_ else like I’m no better than an animal...has it _occurred_ to you that, once any of Moxxi’s girls realize they’ll be missin’ out on their custom, they might just make up the lack of coin by tattlin’ on me? There’s a man on my friggin’ tail – and I do mean that literally – who’d be glad to pay for information on me!”

Oh. “I…did not think about that at all.”

“No, you sure as fuck didn’t,” Zed tells her in a voice gone cold. “Whyn’t you let me scout ahead for a bit? I might love you, but I don’t really wanna be near you right now.”

Patricia wraps her arms around herself and drops back obediently, wondering if it’s not too late to run back and ask Ellie not to spread any gossip. She also wonders why Zed hadn’t requested the same thing, but realizes that it just might have interested Ellie to the point of spreading the gossip at an even faster rate. There’s a sharp pain in her chest at knowing that she might have endangered Zed’s safety, and that he’s justified in feeling upset about it, but all she wants is for him to take her into his arms and forgive her. 

If this is part of love, she’d rather not be in it.

She follows him silently, studying the back of his head and trying not to cry, and is somewhat surprised when Zed finally leads her to a small pier at the far edge of the Docks. There he squints up at the sun to check its position, and sits down to let his legs dangle over the water. “Are you very angry with me?” Patricia asks hesitantly, sitting down next to him when he taps his fingers on the pier.

Zed lets his breath out wearily. “No. Sweetheart, I just…I _know_ you’re different, but…you got my life in your hands, now. Just one wrong word, an’ I’m dead in any number of ways. I’d rather keep breathin’, if it’s all the same to you.”

“I am sorry,” she says, looking down at her hands. “I will try to be careful, Zed. I would also prefer it if you were alive.”

“Well, thanks for that.” He slides an arm around her and she leans into him, feeling relieved. “Knowin’ you, I’ll bet you wanna talk about whichever folks I been sleepin’ with,” Zed continues, reading her mind.

Patricia sneaks a peek at him to find him looking down at her. “I suppose you’ll make your excuses by saying that they were all practice for the day you met me. Isn’t that how the saying goes?”

Zed plays with her hair idly. “No, I ain’t gonna say that. They served a purpose when I was too lonely to walk away, an’ I showed my gratitude for it the best way I knew how. So I ain’t sorry for anyone I’ve ever been with, ‘cause it happened when I really needed it to…but the practice? Hell, Princess, you can’t practice for someone you never thought was gonna show up in the first place.”

"Oh." She digests this, and decides that it's a good thing. Still, she'd better get her lingering doubts into the open where they can be dealt with. "Were you a _frequent_ customer of Moxxi's?"

"No, just once in a while. Maybe like once every other month," Zed explains hurriedly when she takes a breath to ask him for a more precise estimation. "I just keep to myself long as I can 'fore I actually need t'pay someone. Since this last full moon, though, I figure I'm pretty much set for the next ten years."

"Are you teasing me?" Patricia asks suspiciously.

He laughs. "Yup. Just about the ‘ten year’ thing, though.”

“I see. Why are we sitting here?”

“Why’re we sittin’ at an airship dock? Golly, Miss Tannis, that’s a question for the ages!”

“It didn’t _used_ to be an airship dock, so your tone of voice is not appreciated.”

They bicker amiably until spirited argument threatens to turn into something else entirely, and break apart when the airship finally appears on the horizon. “You ever done it on an airship?” Zed wonders. “ _I_ never done it there…”

“Speaking of questions for the ages.”

“Huh?”

“You are forgetting my dearly departed virginity.”

“Oh, yeah. Still. You ever _wanted_ to?”

“I think I prefer safe sex. And by ‘safe sex’, I mean sex that is conducted in a place where I am _not_ in danger of plummeting to my death.”

Airships have _rails_ ,” Zed tells her, still frowning up at the approaching airship speculatively. “Hmm.”

“ _No_.”

He laughs again, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Kinda funny how it was on an airship when I did that spell t’keep you away from me, and now we’ll be on another one where I’m tryin’ to get close as I can.”

“We are not having sex on that airship, and that is final.”

“Aw, c’mon! If lookin’ pathetic ain’t gonna get me what I want, what _will_?”

Patricia shakes her head. “Solid ground might do it, and- Zed, you are hurting me,” she says, trying to pull her hand out of his because he’s abruptly decided to crush it into pulp. He doesn’t respond and, when she looks at him, Patricia sees that he’s staring up at the airship and his face has gone white. She twists around to look for herself and realizes that one of the airship’s passengers is wearing a hooded crimson robe with a symbol embroidered on the chest with gold thread. It looks like a circle with an upside-down ‘v’ inside it. She’s seen that symbol before in connection to her research on eridium, but hadn’t put it together with the news that Nina had brought them just a day earlier. “Zed, is that a member of…?”

“Cult of the Vault,” Zed says in a strange voice. Patricia has heard him raise his voice in anger, lower it in irritation, and whisper wonderfully sweet things to her…this is the first time she’s ever heard _fear_ in his voice before. Instead of making her feel disgusted or disappointed that he’s so clearly afraid, what it does is make her furious. In fact, the more she thinks of it, the madder she gets. If not for this man, Zed would not have to hide his true nature and their more stressful disagreements would never have happened. She might not have been consulted about the halving of her soul, but Zed is her mate and she’ll do whatever is necessary to protect him.

She ignores the pain in her hand and gazes up into the shadowed features of the cultist as the airship slowly drifts down to the dock. She’ll need a good look at the man’s face so that she’ll know his identity even if he changes into different clothing. “I am going to kill him,” she says calmly. “I hope you have no objections.”


	13. We mermaid for each other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zed discovers just how badly the cult wants to get their hands on him.

Patricia’s calm, cool and collected declaration of violence serves to yank Zed right out of his trance. “ _What_ the-!” He whips his head around to look at her and, by Tina, the woman looks totally serious. 

“If you think I will allow anyone to cause you this much distress, you are sadly mistaken,” she tells him, not taking her eyes off of the cultist. “Do you have a knife or some sort of blunt instrument?”

The airship is nearly at the dock, and Zed feels the cold sweat forming on his brow. Is the man really _here_ for him, or just following a trail of gossip? “No, I don’t got nothin’ like that in my pack, ‘cause I ain’t supposed to _need_ it,” he hisses. “Quit starin’, wouldja?” Oh, Tina.

“I protect what is mine,” Patricia says next, to Zed’s absolute amazement.

He manages to convey his doubt that the cultist is actually traveling alone – they come in packs, or not at all – before a rope is tossed to him and he’s expected to help hold the vessel in place so that the passengers can disembark. “ _Shh_ ,” Zed insists, tying the rope around the thick pole lashed to the side of the docks. It’s far too late to run, and would have been too late even if he’d took off as soon as he’d recognized the Vault symbol – it just would have marked him as suspicious, and he’d be hunted down as a matter of course. If he runs _now_ , he wouldn’t be able to get to a safe depth even if it is high tide. By staying, he has a 50/50 chance of survival because they might just walk past him. Patricia makes some sort of angry growl in the back of her throat, sort of like an Enchanted Skeleton plucked straight from the grave when it had been counting on a cushy afterlife. So maybe his chances have just slid down to 40/60; she’s bound to get noticed. “Quit it!”

“Who died and made _you_ Queen Buttstallion?” she snaps back.

“Your _momma_ ,” is Zed’s rejoinder of choice because if there’s one thing that always gets a person going, it’s an insult about their mother. If he can get her distracted, the people onboard will only think they’re having a lover’s quarrel.

Patricia’s brow furrows. “Why would my mother have done such a thing? That just does not make any sense.”

From the corner of his eye, Zed can see the cultist watching them. He needs her to get angry, and quickly. “That’s ‘cause you're stupid,” Zed tells her.

It’s like poking a cornered Orc. “ _What_ did _you_ just _SAY?!?!?!_ ” she thunders. Mission accomplished.

Unfortunately.

Patricia lights into him with a vengeance and Zed’s fully aware that he deserves every moment of it, but they’ve got an entire audience of open-mouthed airship passengers. They keep looking back and forth to check his reaction like they’re watching a game of Toss the Midget. They also seem to be so entertained by her imaginative catalogue of his failings that they are _not getting off of the airship_. “Do y’all think you could get outta there so I can get outta _here_?” He finally asks, forcing himself to look straight at the cultist. “Women, am I right? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t drown ‘em.”

“And _another_ thing…!”

The hooded figure nods. “Bitches, man.”

Well, that’s just uncalled for. Zed abruptly decides that any murder in the guy’s future is going to be done by _him_ , and to hell with the consequences. _He_ can call Patricia whatever he likes because, at the end of the day, he doesn’t actually mean it – Zed’s not about to let anyone _else_ disparage his mate. “Now, wait just a freakin’ minute-”

Patricia ducks beneath his arm. “Oh, look! They’re leaving, which means that _we_ can board the ship!” The ‘fight’ they’d been having has miraculously resolved itself and he’s about to ask her why, but then he notices that the cultist really hadn't come alone…there are at least six more with him.

Maybe he’ll defend her honor later. Like at night, from behind a large rock, at an incline, and with a crossbow.

Right now he steps back and lets them pass… then it really _is_ their turn to board the airship. Patricia scoots aboard first after giving him a ‘so there!’ kind of look, and Zed quickly stows his pack before coming back to the dock and untying the rope. The airship rises to catch the wind and he sets their course before it’s time to turn around and face the music. The music is looking mightily pissed off, Zed notices. “So, um…that was some fun, huh?”

“You said I was stupid.”

“Well, _you_ said you was gonna kill that dude and you didn’t seem t’mean that _either_ so how ‘bout givin’ me a li’l credit here?”

“I am supposed to give you credit for insulting my intelligence?”

“If you gotta ask, then maybe you really _ain't_ that smart.”

Patricia charges up to him and levels her best scowl at him – it’s pretty good, actually; very intimidating for coming from such a small person – before jabbing her finger into his breastbone. “Are you saying that you did not _mean_ to call me stupid?”

“Nah, I totally meant to _say_ it. I just don’t _believe_ it.”

Her lips are all prissed up like she’s just eaten an entire lemon, peel and all. “I am still angry!”

“Now that I _do_ believe.” Zed tells himself that he’s not about to apologize for his words, because he’d needed her very real reaction to them, so it’s no use feeling bad about it. Especially since she’d yelled at him in front of a whole hell of a lot of people he’s going to encounter again in the future, and some of the things she’d said are kind of… _memorable._ “Whyn’t we have ourselves a discussion ‘bout all them things you brought up back there at the Docks?”

Patricia’s face goes red. “This is about you, not about _me_.”

“Uh huh,” Zed comments drily.

He walks away from her and drops to one knee beside his pack, rummaging through it unnecessarily. She whirls around to present him with her back, and starts tapping her toes so hard that she just might knock a hole through the deck if she’s not careful. “I am not going to have sex with you on this airship just to alleviate this lingering sense of guilt you’ve projected upon me,” Patricia finally announces.

Zed presses his knuckles against his mouth to keep himself from laughing. “Okay, whatever,” he says.

“I am serious.”

“I solemnly swear t’keep my dick where you can see it at all times – how’s that?”

That certainly gets her to turn around right quick. “Will you really?” she asks, looking intrigued.

“Play your cards right and you’ll see it up close an’ personal,” he says, leering at her so that she can’t possibly mistake his meaning. Patricia gets him with a crack about not wanting to deal with triton pubic lice, and Zed laughs for a solid minute before he remembers that he’s supposed to be angry with her for being publicly humiliated. That, in turn, makes him remember the people hunting him and his good mood evaporates.

Patricia drifts over and sits in front of him. “My murderous offer still stands.”

“I don’t want you nowhere near the bastards,” Zed says vehemently. “They’d kill you slow, just for harborin’ me.”

She scoots closer, using a handful of his robes for leverage. “I am stronger than I look!”

“No.” Zed reaches out to cradle her face between his hands, making her look at him. “No, you’re not. You’re gonna promise me you won’t try to kill any of ‘em, Princess, an’ you’re gonna promise it right now. You look into my eyes, and you _promise me_.” She immediately looks rebellious and tries to jerk away, but he’s holding her fast. Tina, she’s so small. _Breakable_. Tiny, fierce, and fiery – Zed could be sharing his life with someone whose defining traits are much worse. He can tell that Patricia’s mind is going working overtime trying to find a way out of what he’s asking of her and, to be honest, he hadn’t expected anything less.

“I don’t want to promise you any such thing,” Patricia says stubbornly, and repeats something she’d told him earlier. “I protect what is _mine_.”

The possessiveness in her tone makes his chest tighten. “If that’s so, then you gotta protect _all_ of me – what’s outside can heal. Somethin’ happens to you, nothin’ll patch that up. Honey, please.”

Her pout becomes even more pronounced, but she sighs and gives way. “Very well. I promise not to try to kill any member of the Cult of the Vault. Is that satisfactory, Zed?”

“That’ll do,” he agrees, leaning forward to kiss her mouth. “You’re about the farthest from stupid I ever seen.”

Patricia flings her arms around his neck and returns his kiss with zeal. “I’ve changed my mind. I would like to have you right here and right now.”

Only a fool would argue with a statement like _that_.

“I think we scared that bird,” Zed says afterwards as they’re adjusting their clothing and nuzzling at each other lazily. “It’ll prob’ly never lay eggs again.”

“Nonsense. It most likely thought it saw a worm-”

“It ain’t even been five minutes after an’ you’re already makin’ fun of my dick,” Zed complains, feeling put-upon.

He gets a wide-eyed look of innocence in return. “I hadn’t intended to draw any parallels between your sexual organ and a worm, but that is now what I will think of whenever I see birds from this point on. Thank you for the entertaining metaphor. A _worm!_ ” Patricia clearly finds this hilarious, and Zed feels like kicking himself for planting the idea in her head to begin with. “Are you feeling better?” She asks when she's finished chortling.

Now it’s Zed’s turn to not know what she’s talking about. “Better than _what?_ ”

“You were under a great deal of stress upon noticing that…priest, or whatever he is,” she says, taking one of his hands in both of hers and gently rubbing her fingertips over his knuckles. “I still want to kill him, because you are mine.”

Zed looks at her, but she has her head bowed over her lap where she’s fiddling with his hand. “That’s three times you’ve said that.”

“I suppose it is good for business that you are able to count correctly,” Patricia murmurs. He has a moment of wild hope that she’ll say that she loves him, too, but the next words out of her mouth dash that hope down to the ground far below. “If you die and the fragment of my soul is still within you, there will be no hope of regaining it. What’s inside you is mine; therefore, the rest of you is mine as well.”

He pulls his hand back and stands up to walk over to the steering column to make sure they haven’t drifted _too_ far off course. Airships are basically fool-proof; anyone can do it…which is a good thing, because right now he feels like the biggest fool to ever roam Pandora. Life had been a lot simpler before he’d gotten caught in that damned net.

Zed glances over at her and she’s looking right back at him with those big green eyes of hers, so he’s forced to swallow his pride yet again and tell her exactly what’s bothering him. He’d promised her that he’d make an effort to keep from tilting bitchward, after all. “It don’t make me feel real good to hear you say I’m only yours ‘cause of the half-soul. It makes me feel like bein’ me just ain’t good enough for you.”

“That is not true at all,” she says.

“I already said, I didn't even know I took half. I’d give it back right now if I could. It ain’t like I planned fallin’ for your crazy ass.” Zed continues, hating the fact that he has to lay it out like this; it’s just not how he operates. He’ll have to get used to doing it, though. “It’s…well, it’s kinda hard knowin’ you don’t love me. But that’s just life, I guess. I ain’t tellin’ you that ‘cause I want you to feel guilty,” he explains. Zed keeps his eyes on the trees below them; they’re just about in the Forest and he doesn’t want to miss the dock just because he’s too busy opening up about his feelings.

Patricia assures him that she doesn’t feel guilty at all and it’s almost too bad that she doesn’t, but that’s not a particularly worthy thought for him to be having. “Perhaps I could have…tempered my irritation with you, back at the Unassuming Docks. And…I do not consider you mine just for the accidentally acquired soul. I enjoy your companionship very much.”

There is no doubt at all in his mind as to what _that_ means, but Zed keeps his peace about challenging her on it. They haven’t really had much of a chance to build a normal relationship, and mutual lust isn't the strongest foundation for one, but maybe…just _maybe_ …they can work on it while they’re traveling together. “Get your gear; dock’s comin’ up fast.”

They don’t have much time for conversation until they’ve climbed down the platform and are heading into the Forest for his first ‘appointment.’ Patricia falls into step beside him, and he coaxes her into talking more about her research. “I believe that eridium has a connection to an ancient race of mystical beings – there are several sites which show a level of advanced architectural skill that is simply not available to modern artisans. Neither were they naturally formed, as the Dahl Brotherhood would have us believe.”

“You mean those ruins near the border with Elpis? Yeah, it’s a bit much to be sayin’ a big ole glowin’ arch is the product of erosion,” he agrees. “There’s lots of stuff like that underwater-”

Patricia whirls to face him, dropping her pack to the ground so that she can seize his forearms. “What? Underwater? Where? When did you see – what does it _look_ like?”

“I dunno, it was a while back an’ I _do_ only get two days to get down there,” Zed reminds her, hating the way her face falls in disappointment. “But, uh, what if…what if I took you next month so you could see for yourself?”

“You would do that for me?” She breathes, melting against him in a way that he doesn’t mind at all. 

Zed’s hormones are quick to point out that she’d been talking about conveniently placed bushes, and there are some just to their immediate left….but no, he’s not offering because he’s horny (although he definitely _is_ ) but because loving someone means that you should always do your best to make them happy. “Yeah, ‘course I would.” She starts giving him bedroom eyes and he starts thinking that a trip behind a bush is in his immediate future, but then the White Knight himself is coming down the path directly towards them.

Roland stops and gives them a thumbs-up. “Getting’ freaky right on the path, huh? Now, that’s what I’m _talkin’_ ‘bout. Tap that ass, girl.”

“Um…which one of us’re you talkin’ to?” Zed asks cautiously because you never can tell, with Roland.

The other man just laughs and punches Zed in the shoulder hard enough to make him rock backwards, then continues on his merry way without an explanation. “That was weird,” Patricia comments.

“You can say that again.”

“That was weird.”

“Okay, thanks. Let’s just…go.” Zed shakes his head and helps her pick up her things, then it’s time to brief her on his customers. “First dude’s pretty straightforward – he’s got the shittiest luck I ever seen so there’s always somethin’ wrong with him. He steps on old nails, gets bitten by spiders, falls down wells; you name it, he’s done it. Gave himself poison on accident last time ‘cause he bumped into a travelin’ warlock supplier’s cart and one of the bottles tipped over on him once he was down. The stuff literally poured itself into his open mouth, if you can believe it.” Zed thinks that the guy should just stay inside for the rest of his life, but then a tree would probably fall right on his house or something.

Patricia looks up at him. “Warlocks have traveling _suppliers_?”

“Out of all the things I just told you, _that’s_ what sticks out the most?” Zed asks incredulously. “’Course they got merchants like everybody else. You ever see a warlock wadin’ through a pond to catch frogs so they can pop the eyes out? No, and you never will ‘cause they’re the laziest bunch around. There could be a _pile_ of frog’s eyes right outside their lair, or whatever they call it, and they _still_ would wait for a peddler to roll on up and sell to ‘em. They’d hire someone to put their socks on for ‘em if they could.”

“You seem to take their lack of initiative very personally,” she points out.

“You’d take it personal, too, if you had folks passin’ _you_ up just to climb some dumbass _tree house_ so your good for nothin’ _brother_ could charge you three _times_ as much for somethin’ you coulda done better in half the time. I ain’t bitter about it though, no _ma’am_ I ain't.” Fucking _Ned_.

Patricia seems very interested in this disclosure and pesters him for more information than he’s ready to give at the moment…it would be just his luck that she’d decide Ned was more her type. No, he’ll keep as much space between Patricia and _both_ of his brothers as possible. 

Wait... did he give her the maps with Ted and Ned’s locations marked on them?

Oh, no. 

“So, about those maps I gave you… I’ma need ‘em back for a couple seconds.”

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“’Cause I just remembered how sneaky you are, an’ I wanna take a look to see if there’re any shortcuts you might use to creep up on me while I’m goin’ about my business; that’s why. What if I’m sewin’ up a wound and you decide to get cute an’ leap outta nowhere?” Zed counters, doing his best to make this explanation sound believable. After all, she _does_ seem partial to sneaking up on him.

Patricia regards him through narrowed eyes for a few seconds, then decides that she’ll answer him. “Upon reflection of our current route, I only brought two of the maps. You will have to wait until we stop for the night to look at them, however, because they’ve been carefully packed away and I do not relish the thought of digging through my things directly upon the path.”

‘Tonight’s soon enough,” he concedes. “What'd you do with the rest of ‘em?”

“I hid them beneath my bed. If there were to be a home invasion while I am away, that is the last place any self-respecting thief would search.”

He’s not sure that thieves actually _have_ any self-respect, but maybe that’s just because of his experience with real thieves. “That’s, like, the most common hidin’ spot for stuff,” Zed feels obliged to point out. “ _Everyone_ looks under the bed first!”

“I didn’t see you volunteering to help hide anything but a worm.”

“A worm? What- oh, I get it. Real _funny_ , Tricia. You’re a laugh-a-minute. Just hilarious.”

“I thought so as well,” she says cheerfully.

They pick at each other the rest of the way to his first customer’s hut where it’s discovered that Luckless Lenny, as he’s called, has run afoul of a treant and has a large branch stuck somewhere that branches should never go. Ever. Patricia proves her worth as a companion after distracting Lenny while Zed uses his magic to…dissolve…the pertinent section of the branch and quickly discards the rest of it just in case Lenny wants it as a keepsake. He’s seen weirder trophies, but this one’s kind of gross.

Patricia sticks with him for the second and third house call – where she tries her wiles on him in an attempt to get him to back down on his stance on not allowing her to inject anyone with anything – and then wanders off to look at some ancient ruins when Zed is due to enter a nearby village. “Maybe we can find a big ol’ bush when we meet up on the far side of town,” he jokes, because it’s been awhile and they’re both feeling irritable at the necessity of not doing anything about their mutual urges. She promises to look for one, and Zed lures her into his arms for a farewell kiss that he’s reluctant to break from. “Shouldn’t take me but an hour or two.”

She unwinds her arms from around his neck and straightens her clothing, her face flushed. “Hurry, please.”

“Do my best,” he promises, wondering if his hard-on is as obvious as it feels. “Um, does it look like I’ve got a…?” 

Zed gestures to the appropriate area, and Patricia stares at his crotch. “Yes it does, because you _do_. Either hold your bag to conceal your erection, or think of something that will make it go away…like being horribly disfigured by skags, or eaten alive by spiders.”

“Here I thought you’d just offer suggestions on folks I’d never have sex with in a million years…but I guess those’d work fine,” Zed sighs. “Thanks.”

“I have more ideas if you need them.”

“I think I’m good with the skags an’ spiders.” She’s looking up at him, and he starts thinking of Pandoracorns. “You’re just too damned cute, you know that? Watch out for yourself, honey.”

Patricia smiles. “There is not much trouble I could get myself into in the span of just two hours,” she says, probably trying to sound reassuring, but Zed can remember how long it’d taken her to stumble over him when they’d first met…it hadn’t even been _one_ hour. “Goodbye.” She starts to leave but then darts back for another kiss and a teasing rub of her hand against his groin, which undoes all of the vivid imagining he’d been doing concerning being mauled by a wild animal.

“Get _outta_ here,” Zed complains, shooing his mate away to go look at her dumb rocks. She sashays off with a sound that he could swear is an actual _giggle_ , and Zed shakes his head as he continues on into the village.

His first stop is at the village inn because it’s fairly common that whoever runs an inn is always up in everyone else’s business, and the owner can put the word out while Zed has a cup of ale. He feels a pang of guilt because he’s not sure if Patricia likes ale or not; she might have enjoyed having something besides water to drink. Well, maybe he can see if he can’t buy a jug of wine for her. “Y’all sell wine here?” Zed asks when the serving girl comes back by to smile at him.

She settles her tray on her hip and her smile widens. “Maybe. You that cleric who healed up Missy over at The Bouncing Bastard?”

“The…where?” Zed asks; the name isn’t familiar, but the dread currently filling him is. He has a feeling he knows exactly who ‘Missy’ is, and that he’s not going to like having her identity confirmed. “Don’t think I know no one called Missy.”

“She knows you; described you _real_ well.” The girl jerks her chin towards the wall, where several unrolled scrolls are tacked. “You look handsomer’n that portrait over there, I’ll tell you that much.”

Zed looks over to see his likeness really is posted on the wall, and he slowly walks over to get a better look. It seems that the Cult of the Vault knows exactly who they’re looking for, because it’s right there on the scroll – he’s wanted for unregistered magic usage, which is a thing that exists now, apparently. The reward money for turning him in isn’t anything to sneeze at, either. “You got some kinda enforcer here? ‘Cause there’s been a mistake somewhere.” Zed marches right out of the inn and starts grabbing people in the street to demand directions towards whatever lawman they’ve got around here, mostly because actually _doing_ something keeps him from feeling helpless and hunted. Nobody’s going to believe that a wanted man would turn himself in and if he does this right, Zed will be able to shut down any rumors that might start once people start to realize that he looks just like that picture on the wall.

He finally finds the resident enforcer, a bald knight named Sir Friedman, and flourishes one of the pictures. “Last I heard, I got a right to go about my business ‘thout bein’ bothered – clerics do their jobs and get left the hell _alone_ ,” Zed insists loudly.

“I was havin’ me a nice nap before you barged in here,” Friedman sighs. “Says here you’re wanted for magic usage. I don’t give a damn _what_ you use, long as you clear on out and let me go back to sleep.”

Zed thinks quickly. “You’ll get me outta here just as soon’s you get one of your boys to take all these things down. They ain’t gone by the time I leave, this place’s one I ain’t never comin’ back to…shame, too, on account of that new strain of crotchrot y’all got hoppin’ from person t’person.”

Friedman pushes his hat back from his eyes. “Aw, man. _Again?_ ”

“I’ll inoculate against it, just as long as the pictures end up in a fire.”

“You seem to want ‘em gone awful bad, Cleric. Why’s that, again?”

Zed sits down and gestures the other man to lean close. “I’ma tell you the truth here, man to man. There’s this tavern…Bouncin’ Baby or somethin’ like that-”

“Bastard,” Friedman corrects. “Yeah, I know it.”

“Thing is, I kinda…took my ease with one of the ladies over there. You never can tell what you can catch from workin’ girls, an’ I always make sure they don’t got nothin’ too contagious ‘fore I slip ‘em some gold. You with me so far, Sir Friedman?”

“Yup.” The knight is practically on the edge of his seat, he’s so sure that Zed’s going to go into detail. “Go on.”

Zed rolls his shoulders up in a shrug. “This gal, she tried t’tell me I healed her by…well, you know. Now, I’m a man who loves a good compliment an’ I’m real flattered she’s sayin’ it was _magic_ , but c’mon. Do I _look_ like someone who can heal folks by tumblin’ em? That’s just plain foolishness.”

“That does sound like the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. And I’ve heard my share of dumb things,” Friedman says thoughtfully. “How could you even _do_ somethin’ like that? I mean, hypothetically. Would you put a _potion bottle_ up there, or…?”

Okay, this is getting out of hand. “No. Never stick a potion bottle up there, no matter what hole you’re thinkin’ of. Just don’t. Can we get back to you takin’ those pictures down? Just imagine your granny’s on the cusp of death an’ I can’t save her ‘cause some fool saw the poster and is tryin’ to collect on the reward for it.”

Friedman seems to be more confused than ever, to Zed’s growing dismay. How can one person be so fucking _dim?_ He’d thought he explained it well enough! “If you can’t really do that, then why’s there a poster offerin’ a reward for you?”

Zed barely manages to hang onto his outward calm. “I’m sure you been around Cult of the Vault before – big group of folks hangin’ out wearin’ robes, actin’ all ‘woo woo’? That girl probably told ‘em what she _thought_ happened, and they believed it ‘cause they’ll believe just about any damn thing _anyone_ says. Y’all know they’re crazy as fuck.”

“You got me there.” Friedman sighs loudly. “Fine, I’ll get my boys to take ‘em down – just make sure the rot don’t spread like it did last time. Couldn't sit for a goddess-damned _week_.”

And that, apparently, is that.

Zed returns to the inn where there is no shortage of customers waiting for him, and gets to work. Of course, he’s careful not to use his blood magic openly – it’s all plainly labeled potion bottles and syringes. He does make sure to visit Patient Zero (not to be confused with the one currently residing in Flamerock Refuge) who turns out to be a _very_ friendly Lady of the Evening and, through some sleight of hand, ensures that she will deliver the cure the next time she does her rounds. Zed very loudly announces that he’ll be ‘treating’ the stored barrels of ale, which the inn’s proprietor is _very_ pleased with – everyone in town will be coming for at least one drink, and the posters in the inn will be the first ones removed. After Zed dumps a vial of colored water in each barrel, he purchases a jug of wine for Patricia and is on his way with a smile. There’s a bush out there with their names on it.

He’s patting himself on the back for thinking of such an ingenious solution to his problem (he knows it’s not going to work on actual cultists, but he’s not worrying about _them_ right now), and happily daydreaming about that bush as he heads towards their rendezvous point. After the various stresses of the day, it’ll be nice to work off his troubles in Patricia’s welcoming embrace – then all they have to do is find another inn where they can spend the rest of the evening doing it all over again. And again, until she tells him to stop.

No, there’s nothing else that can possibly go wrong today...right?


	14. Drop Dead Ned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patricia meets Zed's other third, and makes the deal of a lifetime.

Patricia stops to watch Zed stride off towards the village, and smiles as she thinks of the delightfully indecent things they’ll be doing later. Maybe she’ll be able to convince him to show a little more skin than he’s used to – nothing that would make him _too_ uncomfortable, of course. 

She reaches into her pack to withdraw the tightly rolled maps as she thinks of Zed's earlier questions about them. There’s obviously something there that he doesn’t want her to see, and that line about ‘shortcuts’ was definitely contrived to mislead her. Patricia continues on down the path until she finds a relatively private place to study the maps in an attempt to find out what is going on. Picking her way through the rubble, she selects a piece of stone that’s large and flat enough to place her things down upon.

The maps seem to be fairly ordinary; well, hers _definitely_ is because it’s just a regular map purchased from the traveling Royal Archivist. Zed’s map, which she’d brought along to study alongside _hers_ , doesn’t seem to have anything remarkable about it at all…upon first glance. When she begins to compare the two side-by-side, there are a number of irregularities. Boundary lines are different, as are the names of several well known villages, and several locations marked on Zed’s map have been left blank on hers. Patricia digs through her pack until she finds one of the new quills she’d purchased – they’ve been enchanted to produce a lifetime’s supply of ink, but she knows that there’s fine print out there that she hasn’t read yet so she’s not too optimistic about the definition of _lifetime_.

She copies down the symbols and nonsense words (for example, Drop Dead Ned doesn’t seem like an actual location that one can visit, so it’s obviously been written in code), then rolls the maps back up and gets on with the business of finding eridium. This collection of conveniently-placed rubble is far too close to the village to have anything decent left for her to study, but she’s been surprised before. What she _really_ wants is for the moon to be full again so that Zed can take her to see the eridium deposits he’d mentioned.

Patricia picks her way through the ruins, losing herself in the task of examining the stones for the telltale purple veins, but she manages to find only a few tiny fragments – whatever eridium was here, it’s been gone for a while. She’s heading towards the place where she’s due to rendezvous with Zed, grumbling to herself, when she sees that he’s left the village earlier than expected and is…walking _away_ from her? Why is he wearing black robes and a _hat?_ “Where do you think you are going?” She calls out, hurrying after him. “And what are you _wearing?_ ”

Zed stops in his tracks and slowly turns to face her, hefting the staff in his hands and looking absolutely amazed that she’s speaking to him. “You need somethin’, honey?”

What is wrong with the man? “Of course I do, don’t be ridiculous.” Patricia grabs his hand and begins to tow him towards the concealment of the bushes. “There was nothing at the site but a few pebbles and I am _not_ happy. You are now in charge of improving my mood and would you _mind_ removing that ridiculous hat? Where did you find it, anyway? It’s very ugly.”

Zed shocks her to the very depths of her soul (it’s probably quite shallow since she only has half left) by not losing his temper immediately. “Ugly? C’mon, that’s kinda mean – I don’t think it’s _that_ bad. Where’re we goin’?”

“It is,” Patricia assures him, releasing his hand and dumping her pack on the ground so that she can start removing her clothing. He looks even more startled than before. “I would rather not provide entertainment for any passers-by, so please keep your grunting to a minimum so as not to attract an audience. This is a shame, because I thoroughly enjoy hearing your rhythmic groans of exertion, but-”

“This is gettin’ too weird, even for me,” he tells her, removing his hat and frowning at it. “And I’m all _about_ weird. Besides, this is a bomb-ass hat so don't you go tellin’ me it’s ugly when you’re out here wearin’ _goggles_. You goin’ divin’ later? Prob’ly not, and you ain’t pilotin’ no steam-powered ship neither, so quit tryna lower my self-esteem by pickin’ on my choice of headgear!”

She pauses in the midst of opening her shirt, because something has just occurred to her. “You are not Zed, are you?”

He puts his hat back on, eyeing her cleavage wistfully. “You gonna button back up if I say no?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I sure-”

“No, you are not! Which one are you? Are there any more of you?”

Zed’s mirror image sighs and takes a seat on the grass. “Well, it was worth a try - name’s Ned. I’m guessin’ you’re the mate Ted was tellin’ me about; Patchouli, Parmesan, Patois…”

“Patricia.”

“Yeah, that’s it. Weird name.”

“How is it worse than Ned, Zed, and Ted?” Patricia asks her new acquaintance because he certainly seems to think it is, and settles on the ground in front of him to listen to the forthcoming words of wisdom.

Ned explains that the perceived lack of originality where their names are concerned are, in fact, a very efficient way to conduct discipline. “See, now, Momma didn’t have time for our fussin’ and fightin’ – she’d just holler out ‘Ed!’ when one of us was up to somethin’ and then we _all_ got in trouble.”

Patricia tears her gaze away from his lips because, despite knowing that they don’t belong to Zed, she wouldn't mind kissing them. Just to test a hypothesis. For science. “No, I am _not_ going to kiss you,” she announces.

“Well, consider me shocked and upset over that – you really got no idea, Perambu-”

“ _Patricia_.”

“Yeah, that. Still, if you ever think you picked the wrong one you can just come see me – folks say I’m magic in bed, if you get my meanin’.”

She frowns. “Why do they say that you are magic in bed? I don’t understand. Are you a sorcerer? Is that why you are wearing that ridiculous hat?”

“This hat is freakin’ _awesome_ , excuse the hell outta you, and I ain’t no sorcerer – I’m a necromancer, for cryin’ out loud! You never heard of me? Ned the Necromancer?”

Necromancy isn’t something Patricia is very familiar with, but of course everyone has heard the legend of the necromancer from Jakob’s Cove who turned the entire settlement into a legion of slowly shuffling undead. “Wait a minute…the undead,” Patricia exclaims, lunging for her pack and pulling the roll of maps out of it. “Drop Dead Ned! That’s you!”

Ned winces. “I prefer Undead Ned, actually, if there’s really gotta be a nickname involved.”

“Do you really live in a treehouse? Aren’t those exclusively for secretive children with trust issues?”

“Helga was right – you _are_ rude,” he says. “Good thing I didn't let you snare me with your wanton womanly whatevers. You are pretty cute, though, just like she said.”

Patricia acknowledges this with a gracious nod. “My ‘womanly whatevers’ appreciate the sentiment. I am glad to have gotten this opportunity to meet _you_ , however, because I have been told that you are the reason why Zed has two legs and an undersized penis.”

“A what, now?”

“He is very displeased with his situation and it seems as though, since you were the reason he is in it, you should be the one to get him _out_ of it.”

“So it’s real small, is what you're sayin’?”

“The spell?”

“No, Zed’s dick.”

“I am trying to recall you to your sense of brotherly duty.”

Ned’s still very much focused on her comment about Zed’s penis. “Like…how small _is_ it? We talkin’ toddler-sized, here, or just a hair away from average?”

Patricia studies him carefully, because it has occurred to her that there is a bargain to be made here and she thinks she knows how to go about it. “This is information you would truly like to have.”

“I can’t make fun of the guy properly if I don’t got all the facts,” Ned points out.

“Very well, then. I will tell you…if you agree to do something for me in return.”

His eyes drift back down to the gaping front of her shirt. “Somethin’ tells me your favor ain’t gonna be about openin’ that up the rest of the way,” he sighs. “Okay, sure. Whatcha need.”

Patricia quickly outlines the current problems with the Cult of the Vault, and proposes her solution. “Zed made me promise not to attempt to kill any of them. He did not, however, make me promise not to ask anyone _else_ to do so. I would like you to do it for me.”

“Babydoll, I’d do that for free anyhow! You just show me where those bastards are an’ I’ll kill ‘em so fast, their ghosts’ll be…no, wait. How’s the saying go? Dammit, I forgot again!” Ned curses irritably. “Bill woulda known what I’m s’posed to say.”

She makes a mental note to ask who Bill is – right after she gets her second favor. “Since you said the murder would be free, perhaps you could use whatever magic is at your disposal and make Zed more proportionate. It is literally the least you could do, since this _is_ your fault. Who is Bill?”

Ned is laughing too hard to hear her last question, so she’s forced to repeat it once he’s calmed down and is wiping the tears from his eyes. “Bill? He’s my - _was_ my henchman. Left me to shack up with an Iron Golem, if you can believe it.”

“I…can’t, actually.”

“He’s got real bad eyesight and turns out the Golem can’t see a damned thing, either. I heard they're gonna adopt a small pile of pebbles or somethin’, I dunno. Now, let’s get back to this favor – you askin’ what I _think_ you’re askin’?”

“You just spent the last five minutes laughing about what you think I am asking,” Patricia says sternly. “When the Handsome Sorcerer cursed Zed, he purposely made Zed’s human genitalia smaller than when he inhabits his true form.”

Ned tilts his head and stares at her. “You’d know this ‘cause…? Don’t even tell me y’all banged during the full moon.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Patricia asks, genuinely puzzled by the look on Ned’s face. She starts to ask him more questions, but a certain tingle running up her spine…and other places… indicate that Zed is probably nearby. 

Her instincts are validated when her mate comes charging in with his fists raised. “He do somethin’ to you?” Zed yells, firmly planting himself between Patricia and Ned. “What’d you do to her?”

“Hello to you, too, brother. How you been? I been just fine, nice t’see your grumpy ole ass again,” Ned says calmly. “Met your sweetie, here. Cute girl; way too good for you.”

Patricia pats Zed’s backside. Whatever Ned says, it’s more… _perky_ than grumpy. She doubts that she’s ever seen a firmer, well-shaped rear end that’s definitely not grumpy. “That was very territorial. I enjoyed it immensely.”

He twists around to look back at her. “He didn’t try to feel you up or nothin’?”

“Oh, I see how it is! Big Bad Ned’s just goin’ around tryin’ to poach when _she’s_ the one draggin’ me in the bushes for sex. You got some nerve, Zed!”

“This ain’t even your territory, so shut it! You came down here just to see if you could get some ‘fore she realized you ain't me,” Zed roars back.

“Stop yelling, both of you,” Patricia interrupts. “Ned has very kindly agreed to murder the members of the Cult of the Vault for me, which I think is a nice thing to do. The cultists, of course, might disagree with me.”

Zed halts in mid-snarl. “ _What!_ ”

“You shoulda said they were on your tail,” Ned says. “You _also_ shoulda said that Jack gave you a teeny weenie. How small is it? I wanna see.”

“No.” Patricia intervenes yet again to explain that Ned has offered to restore Zed to his original size in exchange for being able to laugh about it and they have a very quick, hissed conversation before Zed grudgingly agrees to it. “I still don’t think killin’ those folks is the way to go about it.”

Ned stares in disbelief. “They’d kill you ‘thout lookin’ twice, and it wouldn’t be a quick death either! Why’ve you gotta hold onto that oath? Only place it got Momma was dead, too – you _want_ to end up like her?”

“Don’t you talk about her like you got _any_ idea what happened to her! _I_ was the one who saw it, and you’d better thank _Tina_ that you weren't nowhere t’be found that day.” The two men glare at each other silently while Patricia steps back to admire the sight of Zed in two places at once.

After several more minutes of loud male posturing, they finally settle down to discuss their everyday business – which seems to be trading gossip back and forth until one of them is accused of lying. Ned seems greatly entertained by the story of Patricia and Zed’s first few meetings, and is sympathetic to Patricia’s struggle for recognition amongst the other alchemists; he pledges his help for anything she might need that can’t be provided by Zed. 

The brothers gradually become on much better terms with each other during the conversation, though the ‘terms’ sour once Ned finally convinces Zed to let him have a look at what the Handsome Sorcerer had afflicted Zed with. “Man, that _is_ small as hell! What d’you do, fuck her bellybutton with that thing?” Ned hoots loudly.

“Get outta here,” Zed yells. “Go make some zombies somewhere.”

“I _would_ , but I’m all outta serum. Ted’s new squeeze was helpin’ me make more – you heard about Blake, right? Turns out he was the Handsome Sorcerer’s right hand…real good at potions and such. Some dudes got _all_ the luck.”

Patricia frowns. “Your brother’s mate is Jeffrey Blake?”

“One of ‘em,” Zed tells her. “He’s also got that Siren, Helga. She says she knows you.”

A Siren? Patricia thinks back to when she’d last encountered one of them, a thin blonde with a penchant for wearing fur and far too many braids. “We have met. She had an atrocious singing voice, as I recall, and was quite surprised when I came up to her to ask if she’d mind being quiet. Why does he have _two_ mates? That seems excessively greedy.”

“I know, right?” Zed agrees. “You weren’t settin’ your sights on Blake, though, were you?” He asks Ned.

“Nah, he's way too skinny for my taste.” Ned leans forward conspiratorially. “Lemme tell you somethin’; I heard Jack made himself a double ‘fore he got what was comin’ to him.”

Zed exchanges a look with Patricia. “So….you’re interested in the _double?_ For real?”

“Don’t judge me, dude. I mean; the Handsome Sorcerer? I _would've_.”

“That’s weird,” Patricia says.

Zed points to her in agreement. “Yeah.”

“I _said_ don’t judge me!”

“Neither of us ever agreed not to. Look, Ned, we gotta get movin’ – and seems like you’ve got a double to catch, so…”

Ned snorts and puts his ridiculous hat back on his head. “Yeah, okay, I can tell when I’m not wanted-”

“First time for everything.”

“That just ain’t nice, Zed. You always act like an Orc pissed in your ale,” Ned sniffs as he gets to his feet and retrieves his staff. “Anyways, Miss Pertussis, it was nice meetin’ you.”

“ _Patricia_.”

“That’s what I said.” He laughs and gives her a hug that skirts the bounds of brotherly affection. “You ever get tired of that cranky bastard, I’ll take you off his hands.”

Patricia promises to keep this fact in mind, watching with amusement as Ned and Zed say their goodbyes; Ned smacks his brother alongside the head with his staff and, hitching his robes up around his knees, takes off running with Zed chasing him back to the path. She smiles and gathers up her things, moving out of the bushes to where her mate is glaring at his brother’s rapidly disappearing form. “I like him.”

“That makes one of us.” Zed sighs, the anger visibly draining from him as he turns to her. “Well, I guess you had t’meet him sooner or later. How’d your thing go, hon? You find what you wanted?”

Patricia lifts her face for a kiss. “Unfortunately, no. There are still more sites to explore, however…what did you mean when you told Ned to make zombies?”

Zed explains how his brother is wont to secretly unleash a zombie epidemic upon an unsuspecting village, and then charge money to take care of the problem when he ‘happens’ upon the village in question. “He's been doin’ it for years, and you’d think he’d be rich as hell – but he ain’t, ‘cause he always winds up losin’ all his coin somehow. Look, let’s just…talk about somethin’ else.” To demonstrate that this avenue of conversation is now closed, Zed kisses her and Patricia is more than happy to accept the diversion.

They spend the night together in a cramped room of an overpriced inn but neither of them mind at all, especially when Ned’s parting gift finally kicks in. Patricia has never before heard of a spell being delivered via a blow to the head of the intended recipient – let alone a spell being activated by sexual congress – but she’s intent upon enjoying the results… and cherishing the yelp of surprise Zed had emitted once the Handsome Sorcerer’s curse was altered.


	15. Dahl That and a Bag of Chips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Dahl Brotherhood gives itself a five-finger discount. Patricia takes exception to this outrageous knavery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a long, long time. Every month for the past year, I’ve opened the document and stared at it in hopes that inspiration will strike...and every month, I’ve closed it again and gone about my business. Yesterday, the words finally came - here’s hoping they’ll stick around for a while.

As the days pass and another full moon approaches, Zed directs more scrutiny at the bond he shares with Patricia Tannis. While their travel plans had initially been because of a peculiar (but not entirely unwelcome) side effect of their mating, he’d worried that she would lose interest in his company altogether. He’s been careful to keep it to himself, but Zed’s starting to wonder if _he_ will be the cause of their separation. He loves Patricia to distraction, but they certainly seem to argue more than is healthy for _any_ relationship – surely that can’t be a good sign. Does she even _like_ him? He’s wondered the same about her, because he’d been so busy fighting his overwhelming attraction to her that he never took the time to actually become friends with her.

Zed can feel _that_ changing – at least on his end – because this is the first time he’s ever truly bothered to become _anyone’s_ friend. There was always too much at stake, too much to hide. He can talk to her about anything at all and even if nine times out of ten she’ll have a smart remark about it, she’ll actually listen. They can have an actual, honest-to-Tina, conversation without Zed having to watch what he says. So he gets her to tell him about her upbringing in exchange for tales (pun not strictly intended) about his and finds that, the more he learns about her, the more he likes her.

The sex isn’t bad, either. Zed has grown to expect her to try to get her hands under his robes and doesn’t really mind Patricia’s unsubtle attempts to separate him from his clothing. He’s begun to crave the feel of her hands on his skin, and not just when he’s in his original form…though the full moon is coming up soon. _Thank Tina for that_ , Zed thinks to himself, because she’s started to hint at wanting to try something that he’s been dying for her to do.

Right now, she’s tormenting him with that ‘something.’ Patricia has managed to produce a stick of rock candy from somewhere, and is licking it without a care in the world. She has to know that it’s causing an hormonal uproar, even though she’s clearly inexperienced at it. _I won’t mind showing her how to do it right, though_. “Knock that off,” Zed tells her, as well as the voice in his head, crossly.

“Am I doing it wrong?” Patricia asks. “Perhaps if you’d show me, using something else…and by _something else_ I mean your penis…”

Tina above, below, and sideways: yes _please_. 

Zed casts his eyes towards the heavens like all of this _isn’t_ driving him slowly insane. “Why you gotta be like this, woman? Not everyone’s got sex on the brain like you.”

“Is that why you’ve been on the verge of mounting me for the past ten minutes?” She asks innocently. “Because you _don’t_ wish to thrust your-”

“No! Yes. I just- where’d you even get that thing?” Zed makes sure to fluff the front of his robes as quickly as possible when she looks down at the stick of candy in her hands. 

Patricia frowns at him, as if suspecting that he’s trying to alter some incriminating evidence. “I’ve had it in my pocket for three years, now. I can’t tell you it’s origin because I’ve forgotten it.”

Three years? Zed leans over to take a look at it. “How d’you even know it’s safe to eat?”

“I don’t,” she tells him. “But if I cannot try it in a physician’s presence then where _can_ I test its edibility?”

Zed smiles, bemused at the logic of her explanation. “Well, I hope you ain’t gonna make a habit of eatin’ weird stuff just ‘cause you know I’d save you if it was a bad idea.”

“You mean, I cannot count on you to follow me on a mushroom expedition? That is a shame.”

“ _Mushrooms_. Please,” he snorts. “Don’t even tell me y’all forgot what happened the other day with those idiots down by that meadow.”

Patricia lifts the rock candy to her mouth slowly, keeping a close eye on him. “There wasn’t _me all_ there. Just…me.”

“Put that thing away,” Zed warns.

Her eyes go round with mock-surprise. “I thought I was the only one with ‘sex on the brain’, so I’m not sure what your problem with it might be.”

Zed lunges towards her when Patricia touches the tip of her tongue to the damn candy, and she shrieks with delighted laughter as he pushes her down into the tall grass. The rock candy is crushed between them, temporarily forgotten, though it’s remembered quickly enough when Zed tries to get a hand beneath her tunic and encounters the sticky mess instead. “Aw, man – gross.”

“You never seem to mind when the mess between us comes from _you_ ,” Patricia says.

“That’s ‘cause I know it wasn’t made three freakin’ years ago and been in your pocket ever since,” Zed points out as he lifts himself off of her, trying to avoid touching anything with the goo on his fingers. He’s pretty sure there was a stream a ways back, so he can clean off there. “Look, I…I know you’re curious ‘bout some stuff.”

Patricia follows him to the stream, seating herself beside him as he crouches to rinse his hands. “You are by no means as stand-offish concerning your body as you were, so I do not understand why we cannot experience more things together.”

“That’s true enough,” Zed admits. “I guess havin’ you so, uh, enthusiastic about me’s helped with that a bit. I’d just…” he trails off in embarrassment, wondering how he can still _be_ embarrassed after all they’ve been doing lately. “Okay, don’t laugh but I always kinda wanted someone to…do that…with me when I’m _me_.”

He finishes cleaning his hands and turns to see her sitting cross-legged beside him, still charmingly rumpled from their earlier bit of fun. “Will you teach me how to do it properly, if I agree to wait?” she asks. “I want to make sure that I can please you just as thoroughly as you always please me.”

“Always, huh? There’s a phrase that’ll go to a man’s head _real_ quick.”

Patricia scoots closer, and sneaks a hand into his lap. She makes a happy noise to find him ready, willing, and disinclined to remove her hand any time soon. “I am glad that the sexual compulsion we’ve been afflicted with is wearing off,” Patricia breathes in his ear as she rummages around in his robes until she touches bare skin.

“Really, now.” Zed reaches down to help her out and spreads his legs, groaning softly as she begins to work him over with a firm grip. “Coulda fooled me.”

“Evidently I _have_ fooled you. Now that the compulsion is lessening, I can finally tell which urges are of my own making.” Patricia licks her lips suggestively, and it’s all he can do not to seize the back of her neck and shove her face right between his thighs. Zed pulls her close and fumbles with the laces of her tunic, but then she’s squirming away from him. “Stop that; someone is coming.”

“I wish it was me,” Zed complains. They separate unwillingly, and Zed tries to look as though he _hadn’t_ been seconds away from flinging his robes into the river and acting all kinds of indecent in front of Tina and everyone.

The intruders upon their attempted mated bliss turn out to be three long-faced men in robes embroidered with alchemist symbols. “The Dahl brotherhood,” Patricia hisses. “Act as if you were simply treating me for a rash that requires the liberal application of a certain type of cream.”

Zed has to take a second to absorb (!) this particularly obscene play on words, because clearly she hadn’t meant it like… _that_. “I don’t gossip ‘bout my patients.”

“Didn’t you tell me about that man-”

“Well, yeah, but it ain’t really _gossip_ if you’re helpin’ me with him after the fact. It was more like a…like… a _warning_.”

By this time, the intruders have come up to them and it’s time to deal with whatever the hell they’re wanting. “ _Par_ don me,” one of them says, rolling his R’s as if they’ve been stuffed into a barrel and are headed down a hill at breakneck speed. “I _do_ hope we are not inter _rupt_ ing.”

“You are,” Zed says. No point in tiptoeing around the issue with these lousy shiny-robed cockblockers. “What d’you want?” Maybe they’ve come to get help for those sticks that’ve been lodged up their asses, he thinks with a barely repressed snort.

Their leader adjusts his spectacles. Probably just to show that he’s rich enough to be able to afford them; most folks just ended up squinting their way through life…which explains the shortened life expectancy of anyone within walking distance of a cliff. “Why, my dear fellow, we only wish to ask for… _directions_.”

If that man would have a cat, Zed thinks, he’d be stroking it villainously right about now. “I’ll tell you where to go,” he offers.

“We have a map,” the Dahl Whosits says, smiling in a way that Zed _really_ doesn’t like. It’s the kind of smile you see right before something terrible happens to you, and even Patricia picks up on it. She puts her hand on his back and moves closer as the man holds out a hand to his compatriots. One of them places a rolled up map in his palm, and Zed eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Where’d you get that?”

“Oh, this old rag? I found it a few days ago, in an abandoned house,” the man says, smile widening as he unrolls the map to show them.

Zed stares down at one of the maps that is supposed to be safe beneath Patricia’s bed in Flamerock Refuge. “Did you, now.”

“That looks like the same map _you_ gave me,” Patricia says loudly.

“Then it sounds as if you might help us decipher these symbols,” Mr. Dahl says. If his smile widens any more it looks like his jaw will come unzipped and fall right off. Zed reaches for the map quickly, intending to take it back, but Dahl twitches it just out of reach. “If it, ah, _looks like_ the map you have.”

Zed looks at the other man evenly. “I don’t believe you got any business goin’ into a young lady’s house and diggin’ through her things. ‘Specially since you won’t see fit to let her join your cute li’l secret handshake club.” Sparing a glance at Patricia, he can see that the only reason she’s been quiet this long is because she’s locked into some sort of staring match with the other two robed weirdos.

“The Dahl Brotherhood must test the commitment of its many applicants-”

“By breakin’ and enterin’? Back in the day, they just used to call that thievery and called someone out to lop off your hand,” Zed points out. “Honey, this yahoo’s been in your _house_.”

The staring contest is abruptly over, and Patricia grows white with rage as she processes this invasion of her privacy. “How dare you,” she breathes, and Zed deftly plucks the map from the man’s hands as his attention is successfully diverted. Patricia advances upon them and all three scoot backwards without really meaning to – they’re not happy that Zed’s reclaimed the map, but they’re also not about to argue about it while they’ve got some righteous lady anger bearing down from the northwest.

She really lets them have it and Zed’s relieved that he’s not the object of her wrath because, boy, that is a _lot_ of wrath. If she were magically inclined, there would probably be lightning bolts shooting from her eyeballs. She’s really got a good glare going, Zed has to admit, and even more of a good reason to be pissed off. Patricia’s scathing diatribe is in full swing, and he catches the words _inner sanctum_ and _lawsuit_ (whatever that is) jumbled up in there. It’s not long before the Dahl boys decide to cut and run – their intended show of smug superiority hasn’t worked out.

Patricia sends them on their way with a few choice insults concerning illegitimate birth, and Zed unrolls the map to have a good look at it as those shiny robes recede into the distance. That was, he thinks, just a little bit too easy. “I cannot believe that they have invaded my privacy in such a manner,” she seethes.

“If they did it this once, I’ll bet they been in there before,” Zed muses. “Bet there’s a reason why they don’t let you in that goes beyond you bein’ a woman, too… they’d have to give you credit for your discoveries, huh?”

She stares at him as comprehension slowly dawns. “They have been stealing my research.”

“Could you find out for sure, somehow?” Zed rolls the map up again with a frown. He won’t have time to do it until after the full moon, but he’ll definitely need to make a few visits to the marked areas – if those weirdos can steal a map they can make copies of one, too. “Well, I guess they’d keep whatever they swiped up in their clubhouse…an’ they wouldn’t let you in there to have a peek.”

Patricia throws her arms in the air and laughs aloud. “No! They would not!”

Of all possible reactions, Zed isn’t prepared for something like this. “Uh. You okay there, sweetheart?”

“They would, however, let _you_ in,” she says, her eyes shining. 

“Babydoll, I wouldn’t know one of your fancy symbols from a dang hole in the ground. How’m I s’posed to know what I’m lookin’ for?”

Patricia stands on tiptoe and wraps her arms around his neck with a wide smile. “ _I_ will know, because I am coming with you while dressed as a man.”

“That’s the worst plan I ever heard of,” he assures her, resting his hands on her waist. “Nobody’s ever gonna think you’re a dude.”

“I have found that, as a general rule, people are stupid. They will see what they expect to see.” Patricia explains further and Zed has to grudgingly admit that she’s got a point, and a half-baked plan like this is better than no plan at all. “Now, if you would not mind too much, I would like to head back home and fortify my dwelling against any further intruders, as well as catalog what might have gone missing in our absence.”

Zed can’t argue with that at all – he’ll need to go back soon anyway, since the full moon is almost upon him. “You’re also gonna need to figure out what you wanna bring.” This statement gets him a puzzled look until he explains. “Remember how I’m gonna show you all them arches and stuff? Don’t you need some tools, or are your eyes gonna be enough?”

She melts against him upon being reminded of his promise. “Oh, Zed,” Patricia breathes in a manner that goes straight to his dick without stopping along the way. “We need to find a bush immediately.”

_Thank you, O Tina, for always lookin’ out for me_. “Oh, I’m pretty sure we passed one on the way over here.”

She drags him off in the indicated direction so that he can inspect some architecture of his own, and Zed says another fervent prayer of thanks to Pandora’s resident goddess as Patricia yanks off her top so quickly that he gets slapped in the face with it. A luckier triton, he thinks, has never existed anywhere.


	16. Ready, Aim... Fire Sale!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never go up against a Scientist when Research is on the line.
> 
> Or something like that.

Patricia wraps her arms around herself tightly as she looks around the main room of her cottage. Everything _seems_ to be right where she’d left it, but she knows that it isn’t and she’s feeling more upset about it with each passing moment. How long had the Dahl Brotherhood been invading her privacy like this? Why hadn’t she realized, before now? She’d thought that this was the one place in all Pandora that she could come and feel safe. 

How foolish she’d been. 

She should have bought a few of those charms she’d seen for sale at the traveling fair last summer but there’d been no guarantee that they would even _work_. Everyone knows that the only place to buy effective charms is from a necromancer, and that they’re prohibitively expensive. Provided you could even find a necromancer in the first place… but she knows exactly where to find one. If she’s feeling up to playing an extensive game of make-believe, Patricia should be able to get Ned to give her the charms for free. Well. _Almost_ free.

Having a plan serves to drag her out of the doldrums completely, as is usually the case when she manages to stop herself from feeling helpless, and Patricia smiles for the first time since coming back to her cottage. She’ll bundle up the rest of the maps and the more sensitive research and ask if Ellie would mind watching over it while Patricia amuses herself with her handsome water-bound paramour. Setting her plan to action, she also brings along a rucksack in which she can borrow some of Axton’s clothes while neither Axton nor Ellie is looking.

She could, of course, _ask_ to borrow them… but where would the fun be in that?

Patricia gathers her first armful of items and heads across the bridge to the main area of town. A strange woman attempts to say hello, but is easily frightened off when Patricia closes her eyes tightly and screams for all she’s worth. Really, why do people bother? Don’t they know by now that she wants nothing to do with them? Another scream takes care of the loitering bums by the fire pit, and Ellie shakes her head as Patricia walks up the steps. “Girl, what the hell’s wrong with you?”

“It worked, did it not? Please let me inside your residence.”

“Bein’ all kindsa weird up in here today,” her friend says cheerfully. “Get on in there, honey bun.” Explaining why she needs to hide her property, Patricia begins stashing items until Ellie makes her stop. “Patty, you can’t hide stuff under the bed! Everyone knows folks look there first thing!”

Patricia sighs in resignation. “That is exactly what Zed told me. Right before someone looked there.”

Ellie is immediately distracted by the mention of Flamerock Refuge’s resident cleric. “That’s _right_ , y’all’re doin’ it now! If I was gonna snoop, I’d look _in_ your bed and not underneath it. Mm- _mmm_!”

“I doubt that any thieves would ‘snoop’ while anyone was inside the bed,” Patricia objects.

“Still.” Ellie sighs expressively. “That man is all _kinds_ of delicious. He’s probably wild as hell in bed, ain’t he? That’s usually how it goes…gentleman in the streets, freak between the dang _sheets_.”

“If that is indeed ‘how it goes’, then Zed would have to be an actual gentleman,” Patricia says, casting about for discarded articles of clothing she can take back with her. “There are some miracles in this world that not even clerics can deliver.”

Ellie stares at her. “Did you just make a _joke_?”

“I…suppose that I did,” Patricia says after a moment of consideration. “It seems as if Cleric Zed is rubbing off on me. Another colloquialism.”

“Girl, I _wish_ he’d rub off on me,” Ellie laughs, winking at her. “Nothin’ like a sexy old dude with arms big enough to lift the whole dang town ‘thout even breakin’ a sweat. Y’all still doin’ it like crazy? Four times a day, didn’t you tell me? I tried that with Axton and the poor man nearly died of dehydration!”

Patricia open her mouth to reply honestly, but remembers in time that Zed doesn’t like people discussing his personal business. When it comes to their lovemaking, it certainly doesn’t get any more personal than _that_. “It would upset him if I shared any details.” She glances around again, frowning when it doesn’t appear that Axton has left _any_ clothing behind. She’d probably better go to Zed’s Apothecary as is, and ask Zed if he has any spare clothing – it’s too bad, because she’d wanted to surprise him.

“Dang, I don’t even get no juicy gossip from you no more…Patty, what _are_ you lookin’ for under there?” Ellie listens to Patricia’s explanation, her eyes going wide with scandalized delight. “You just wait right here.”

Her friend sticks her head out of the door and yells for Axton, and the handsome young Hunter appears moments later. He gulps for breath, having run at top speed as soon as Ellie had called him, and Patricia wonders if she can duplicate this effect with Zed.

Probably not. He would laugh himself into a fit of hiccups if she ever suggested it.

“We need your clothes for a special mission, sweet-cheeks. Drop them drawers and I’ll make it worth your while,” Ellie tells him.

Axton has his shirt off before Patricia can even blink. “Hell, sweetie, you always do!” The other articles of his clothing go flying about the room, and Ellie loudly admires Axton’s bare body. Patricia gives him an appraising look, ultimately deciding that she greatly prefers Zed’s physique, and busies herself with retrieving the discarded clothes. The socks can stay with their owner…if she’s not mistaken, they’ve stayed with him so long that it’s a miracle they haven’t walked away on their own. “So, uh, _both_ of you?”

Ellie whoops with laughter. “You dirty sumbitch! Get that big ole dick over here-”

“I’ll just be going now, thank you,” Patricia says, not really interested in staying to watch the proceedings while she has revenge to attain and the dish is cold. Or something. She hurries back to her cottage and tries to suppress the crawling of her skin at the first touch of Axton’s clothing – there’s no time to wash it, unfortunately, but she finally works out that she can bear it if wearing two layers of her own clothing beneath his. It’s not practical in summertime, and Patricia is starting to regret her scheme as she walks back over the bridge towards Zed’s Apothecary.

The man himself is leaning out of his second-story window making a general nuisance of himself by heckling a would-be juggler. Through the rivulets of sweat running down her forehead, Patricia can see him do a double-take upon noticing her. “Do I even wanna know?”

“Ugh.”

Zed grins and leans out further. “This’s like one of them stories, ain’t it? I’d let down my hair so’s you can climb my tower and rescue me, but I just got a trim day before yesterday,” he teases. “Maybe I got somethin’ else that’s long enough for you t’climb.”

“Very funny. Unlock your door, if you please, and keep your worm to yourself.” He looks down at her as if he’s thinking of making her recite the formulaic request for entry – she’s read the same books _he_ has – but just smiles and disappears from the windowsill. 

The front door opens shortly thereafter and Patricia whisks past Zed, shedding her clothing in much the same fashion as Axton had. “Where’d you get all that? You gotta be hot as hell. Not that I’m complainin’ ‘cause that ass would make a monk break his vows.”

“I borrowed them, and I regret the decision most intensely,” Patricia complains, swatting his hand away from the aforementioned area. “Do I smell like man sweat? I feel as if I do, and I am not enjoying this experience.”

Zed follows her up the stairs, picking up the fallen attire and dumping it into a pile behind the secondary door. “I got some stuff you could wear, if you’re still ready to get your research back. You don’t think _I_ smell bad, do ya?”

Patricia stops and turns around, going up on her toes for a kiss. “Of course not. I think you might be the cleanest male I have ever met. Though to be fair, I try to keep my distance from almost everyone with a pulse. Or without one,” she says thoughtfully.

“Gee, thanks.” Zed’s hands drop from her shoulders to her waist, then down to squeeze her bottom before she can slap him again. “Um, you think we got time to…?”

She can feel his cock rise to press against her bare stomach, and answering moisture begins to dampen her inner thighs. “We do not, but if we are quick I do not see why we should not indulge ourselves.”

Zed’s hand slips down to stroke between her legs, and his breathing roughens at finding evidence of her obvious want. “I ain’t gonna drop you,” he promises suddenly, and Patricia doesn’t even have time to squeak in astonishment as he yanks his trousers open and lifts her up to mount him. Both his arms wrap around her, holding her to him tightly as he bends his knees and works his hips. It’s fast, rough, and wonderful. All she can do is moan helplessly as his cock pumps in and out, thrilled that he’s strong enough not to need a brace. 

All too soon, Zed’s fevered thrusts reach a climax and he remembers his manners long enough to help _her_ climax, too. “Damn, honey, I’m sorry… I know better’n that,” he pants against her hair, still keeping her sealed against him. “I’ll do you right next time, I swear.”

Next time, Patricia thinks with a pleasurable shiver, he’ll have a tail. “Could we do this again? I liked it very much.”

“Whatever you want, Princess,” Zed says, nuzzling at her. “Anything, for you.”

“For the moment, I will settle for becoming unstuck without creating too much of a mess,” Patricia says and he shifts her around carefully, supporting her with one arm while he uses his other hand to grope for a conveniently-placed cloth. Zed gently wipes her clean before kissing her lovingly and carting her over to his bed for a cuddle they don’t really have time for. “How are you feeling? Your time is approaching soon – should you have been doing that with me, standing up?”

Zed kisses her again. “My legs’re startin’ to hurt, sure, but I always got energy for you.”

He shows her the clothing he’d had in mind, and Patricia quickly chooses several items to try on. Most of it is enormous, but she can stuff the leggings into her boots and the cloak will just have to drag on the ground. “What do you think?”

“I think that you look like a kid who stole her daddy’s clothes and is playin’ dress-up. Here, lemme help…you almost got it but that’s way too long.” Zed pauses to snicker. “That’s what she said.”

“Who is she and why would she say that?”

“Never mind…” Zed reaches for a knife and starts to slice some of the extra fabric from the hem of the cloak until it just brushes the tops of her feet. “That tunic’s way too big, but if you roll it up on the inside an’ put a belt around your middle it’ll look okay.”

Patricia holds a hand out for the cloak fabric, intending to wrap her chest – it will be uncomfortable, but the ordeal should be over soon. “You have a great deal of clothing for someone who contents himself with a single outfit that is washed repeatedly.”

“Don’t drag me like this,” Zed complains. “Wrap up the girls while I figure out what t’do with your face.”

“Excuse me?”

“Honey, you could be flat as a board all you want but you ain’t gettin’ in that door ‘thout a moustache. Lucky for you, I got some bullymong fur that’ll do the trick.”

Patricia gives him a severe talking-to about the fur that is not going to come anywhere near her face, but in the end she realizes that his idea is the only one that will work. If she had longer hair she could have trimmed it and used the excess, but it’s too late in the game for either of them to abduct someone from off the path outside.

The fur is duly shaped and glued onto her face, and Zed recovers from a sudden onset of hysterics long enough to steer her in front of the mirror so that she can see what she looks like. “I resemble Sir Hammerlock,” she says, causing another pained wheeze to emerge from the bundle of robes that have collapsed onto the bed. “Stop that. The weekly meeting is about to begin, and we cannot miss it.”

While she would rather wait until a more solid plan (as well as more realistic facial hair) has been put into place, Patricia needs to make their move before the guild members they’d encountered in the Forest return. There’s also the matter of ensuring that Zed can attend while he still has legs to walk on. 

They make their way to the Dahl Brotherhood’s surprisingly ordinary headquarters, and Patricia makes sure that her hood stays up so as to curb Zed’s amusement. “Make sure t’have your voice down low if you gotta talk…though maybe I should just say you’re mute. Tina help us if you gotta go take a piss somewhere an’ one of ‘em decides to hang out with you while you do it.”

Patricia looks up at him, and his mouth twitches the instant he sees the fake mustache. “Is that…normal?”

“It’s like a social thing guys do,” Zed explains. “Just follow my lead in there, okay?”

He raps on the door authoritatively, and draws himself up to his full height as the door creaks open. “State your business,” a male voice demands from inside a hooded cloak big enough to…well, Patricia’s not sure what it’s large enough to do. It _is_ uncommonly large, however. 

“I heard y’all were acceptin’ new members…might be interested in joinin’, but I wanted to check things out for myself. That signup fee is no joke,” Zed tells the other man. “What’s your name, son?”

The hood is thrown back to reveal a rather scrawny man named Harold, if Patricia’s memory is correct – she’s often seen him at the market being scolded for shorting his customers. “Oh, hey, Cleric. Nice to see you – yeah, c’mon in! Um.” Harold has just caught a glimpse of Patricia. “Who, uh, who’s this?”

Zed waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t pay him no mind. That’s just Patrick, my assistant what just moved from Jakob’s Cove…” he leans in and twirls a finger near his left temple. “Kinda woo-woo, if you know what I mean? He don’t talk, just makes…well, I _guess_ you call ‘em noises if you were feelin’ generous.”

“Erm-”

“Look, I swore to his sister that I’d look after him. He won’t be any trouble,” Zed promises, and turns to look down at Patricia. She’s still slowly sifting through the myriad insults and wondering if he is either teasing her or playing the role they’d planned on. “Whyn’t you go sit down someplace? I’m sure they got chairs if you just _look around_.” He makes the same gesture with his hands that she’s made many times to anyone about to strike up a conversation with her, and then walks off with Harold. “That is one nice table… is that mahogany?”

Patricia rubs at her nose, which is itching something fierce because of the fake mustache constantly tickling it, and starts looking around the place. There are unnecessary columns everywhere, and most aren’t even holding up anything – she supposes they’re listed as a must-have in the Secret Society Handbook. A place like this is bound to have many of the cliched secret passages and moving bookcases encouraged in the aforementioned manual, so Patricia takes note of the room’s dimensions and tries to figure out if any space is missing.

She can still hear Zed loudly exclaiming at something while she shuffles about trying to look as though she really does have a hump on her back. Hopefully it looks at least halfway real and not as though she has Axton’s clothes bundled up back there – both she and Zed had agreed that the smell would deter any but those most determined to make conversation. 

There’s nothing to be found on the ground floor except the usual bundles of books topped with a fake raven or random animal skull. That is, if one isn’t counting the dramatic candelabrum sporting black candles. If Patricia could shake her head in disgust without dislodging her fake hump, she would definitely do so.

She sidles up the stairs and, when a member of the Brotherhood thinks to say something about it, leans in and delivers her most expressive groan. His eyes pop wide beneath the cover of his hood, and he quickly finds somewhere else he needs to be. 

The second floor yields all manner of riches, including a copy of the map stolen from her. Patricia quickly slides the parchment roll into her belt where it is squished flat against her side, and continues fondling the bookshelf in her search for the secret lever. She finds it disguised as a volume on proper dining etiquette, of all things, and the bookcase swings open obligingly.

Not a single soul is present to see her scoot inside the concealed room and close the bookcase behind her. Once inside, Patricia can only stand and stare in shock – for here she can clearly see the fruits of her labor have been appropriated. It seems that everything which had been deemed unsatisfactory for entrance into the Dahl Brotherhood was only _unsatisfactory_ because she had been the one to do the work. It’s small wonder they haven’t accepted her; if it was new ideas they were after, all they had to do was wait until she left Flamerock Refuge and then _steal her research_.

Patricia has always considered herself a fairly level-headed woman but she can feel pure, unadulterated rage kindle inside her. They’d come to her house, invaded her precious and hard-won privacy, and had stolen her life’s work…not once, but countless times.

However, what’s been hidden away here is not only _her_ research. Once Patricia has recovered from her fierce initial urge to pull one of the wall torches out of its sconce and set fire to everything inside the room, she carefully searches for identifying marks amongst the scrolls and various other diagrams present. When she has found at least one copy representing each stolen work, Patricia carefully tucks them into her belt and into the lining of her cloak.

 _Then_ she takes one of the torches down and props it up on one of the display cases. Gravity will do its work after Patricia leaves the room and urges Zed back out into the street.

Leaving the secret room is harder than getting inside it, unfortunately. There are voices on the other side of the wall…and when she stamps in irritation at having to wait, the slight vibration causes the torch to slide down and ignite the stacks of parchment much earlier than she’d planned. 

She’s trapped in a room full of highly flammable items and a fire that’s spreading quickly, with no immediate way out. “ _Shit_.”


	17. A Fintastic Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you get when you lock an alchemist behind a bookcase and she sets the whole place on fire? A job well done, and a derrière that’s medium rare.

Zed considers himself to be in a decent mood. He’s gotten laid recently, and has weathered the absolutely hilarious sight of his mate wearing a fake wig and moustache made from bullymong fur. While he’s not too pleased at having to continually think up small talk about things he has no interest in, he’ll do it for Patricia. If he makes her happy, she’ll make _him_ happy and he has a vested interest in making sure the level of his sexual activity stays as high as possible.

He’d try to make her happy even if she never slept with him again, but Zed figures that’s something better left unsaid since he _really_ likes sleeping with her.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember the days when he _wasn’t_ a sex-mad fiend.

“Y’all ever consider bein’ celibate? Ain’t that a things alchemists do?” he asks Harold abruptly.

“Uh…no? Anyway, like I was saying: the meetings on weekends aren’t mandatory, but they’re _encouraged_ because…” Harold rambles on, and Zed forces himself to stop thinking with his dick for one minute because he hasn’t seen Patricia and that goddess-awful fake hairdo in a while. She probably went upstairs to look under all the beds. “Does anyone else smell that?” Harold asks nobody in particular.

A few of the other Brethren, or whatever they’re called, take a break from turning lead into gold over by the fireplace and start sniffing loudly. “Brother Kyle is probably burning dinner _again_ ,” one of them says, but Zed can smell it too and he has a sinking feeling that it has less to do with Dahl Dinnertime and more to do with one bearded lady.

“Anybody seen Trish- um, _Patrick?_ ” Zed demands. He has to get to her before something bad happens…and in a place like this, filled with books and other extremely _flammable_ objects, things could go bad fast.

All around him, men are starting to realize that really _are_ smelling smoke and it’s definitely not coming from the kitchen. “Fire!” Someone bawls, and then there’s a mad rush for the door – Zed fights his way against the flow of shiny robes and surprisingly high-pitched screams. He shoulders past another group of panicked alchemists coming down the stairs as he’s going up.

He can feel a fluttering in his chest that _could_ be his own fright, but somehow he doesn’t think so. “Tricia? Honey, where _are_ you…!” He’d know if she were hurt, wouldn’t he? Wouldn’t the bond work that way? Surely she’s all right. Zed starts yanking open doors, yelling her name, and he stops when he hears someone pounding on a wall. _Patricia_. Zed murmurs a heartfelt prayer to Tina, and follows the noise.

“Zed, let me out!” Patricia’s muffled voice says, but there’s no door that he can see to open. “ _Bookcase!_ ”

“What about it?” Zed demands, finally feeling panic creep up on him. There’s smoke everywhere but he can’t see the fire that goes with it… which means that, wherever Patricia is, the fire must be there too. He looks around frantically, feeling her fright mix with his own hearty dose of it, and tries to think. What had she told him about the Dahl Brotherhood? She went upstairs to look for her stolen research and she’s still here but he can’t _see_ her, which means… “Secret room.” Patricia had said _bookcase_ , which was how she’d gotten in so all he has to do is find the right book to move so that he get his mate _out_. “Hold on, Trish, I’ll get you outta there!”

Zed starts at the top and begins sweeping all of the books onto the floor and soon he’s ankle-deep in literature with no signs of a secret lever. He dumps three more shelves before he finds the one book that won’t budge, and pulls it. There’s a clicking noise and the bookcase swings out just enough for Zed to see the inferno inside the secret room. “Where-!”

Patricia tries to wriggle out, but the door won’t move any further due to being blocked by all the books he’d torn off the shelves. “Can’t…breathe…”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Zed snarls, dropping to a crouch and shoveling books behind him like a skag kicking dirt on the pile of garbage it’s just horked up. When he’s excavated the bookcase just enough for it open further, he yanks Patricia out by the hood of her cloak…which is _on fire_. Vowing to apologize later for the rough treatment she’s getting, Zed rips the cloak off before the whole thing catches and turns her into a human candle.

She’s too weak to do much more than cough, and even that sounds pitiful. “Stay with me, honey, I’m takin’ you out and we’ll get you healed up.” He can hear some ominous-sounding crackling coming from downstairs, which means the fire’s spread down through the timbers, so they’ll have to leave through a window. Zed doesn’t have time to heal her properly here and he can’t just cart her off her as-is, so he carries her into a room on the other side of the building and shoves his hands up her shirt.

“Now, I know this ain’t the time or the place…but I gotta heal your lungs or you’re not gonna make it back to the Apothecary,” he apologizes. Her lack of response is alarming, to say the least, but Zed pushes his magic through her skin and Patricia finally takes her first deep breath. It’s released as some loud spluttering and coughing, but that’s to be expected. They don’t really have the time for him to pull her against his chest and squeeze the daylights out of her, but Zed does it anyway. “Let’s go, crazy lady.”

“Okay,” Patricia agrees, and watches him bash a chair through the expensive stained glass window. He helps her down onto the branches of one of the trees that seem to grow everywhere in Flamerock Refuge, and Zed carries her around the crowd that’s gathered to watch the Brotherhood’s clubhouse burn down – nobody is looking at them, but he doesn’t need to draw any unnecessary attention.

The adrenaline rush deserts him the second he’s locked the shop door behind them and Zed’s hands are shaking as he turns and reaches for Patricia. They end up on the floor in each other’s arms, and Zed presses his face against her neck. “Thought I might lose you.”

Patricia pets his hair gently. “I am not easy to misplace.”

“Easy enough if you’re behind a fuckin’ bookcase,” Zed reminds her, lingering fright making the words come out sharply. “Hell, I’m sorry…I just…did you at least find what you wanted?”

Her hand cups his jaw in silent absolution. “Yes. I put copies in the cloak.”

Oh, no.

Zed winces, drawing back to look at her. “Ya mean…the cloak that was on fire an’ I ripped it off you? _That_ cloak?”

“…yes. _That_ cloak.”

“Whoops.”

“What’s done is done, unfortunately. I would have put them closer to my skin before starting the fire, but-”

“What!”

Patricia pets his hair again. “I would have put them-”

“Nonono, walk it on back. _You_ started that fire? While you were in a secret room you couldn’t get out of? Like…for real?” Zed demands. She does some fast talking to get out of trouble, explaining that it had been an accident. He’s still ticked, no way around _that_ , but Zed can see her growing distress and so he tries to rein in his anger. He tries some explanation of his own. “I thought you might die in there, with me close enough to reach you but not even knowin’ how,” he says. “I couldn’t live with it, if anything happened to you.”

Those big green eyes are still wide and anxious but she starts to calm down when she feels that he’s calming down, too. “I am sure you would be off to visit Moxxi’s…independent contractors…the minute I died.”

“No,” Zed promises, knowing there’s no way she could realize how deeply he means it, “I wouldn’t. One, and done.” A sudden, searing pain in his legs makes him flinch. He’d half-planned to cart her up the second set of stairs and make love to her, but his curse won’t be ignored no matter how much he needs the reassurance of physical intimacy with his mate. 

“Does it feel like that every month?” Patricia asks, looking appalled for a different reason this time. “Why do I feel it, too?”

He has no idea, and he absolutely hates it. It’s bad enough that he has to endure the agony of his bones rearranging themselves but now _she’ll_ have to deal with it, too. “If there’s a way to switch that off, I sure as fuck don’t know it.”

“Perhaps this is yet another phase of our mating that we must blunder through, much like the intense sexual urges of the past month,” she says, and Zed stares at her. “It might be another method of keeping us together in a literal sense, because mated couples would naturally want to safeguard each other.”

That makes a _lot_ of sense, Zed realizes. “Princess, you got a mind like an Eridian trap,” he says admiringly. “That’s _gotta_ be what’s goin’ on.” 

She looks so pleased at the praise, he hates himself for wiping the smile from her face with another shared jolt of pain. “This is what it’s like each time?” Patricia asks again, rubbing at her calves.

“Well…it gets worse,” Zed’s forced to admit. “A _lot_ worse.” It’s going to get a lot worse _soon_ , too, which means he only has a few short hours to figure out how to shield her from the brunt of his affliction.

They make their way up into his living quarters and Patricia makes herself at home on his bed, while making him start worrying again when she coughs. “I am fine,” she says.

“Thanks to whatever the hell this is, I know that ain’t true,” Zed retorts, pushing his fingers through his hair as he paces back and forth. “Um, okay – last time, we had t’stick close if one of us was in pain and that helped. Maybe if we…separate?”

Patricia quickly suggests that he test this hypothesis by going back down the stairs. There’s nothing to lose by trying it out, after all. Zed returns to the first floor and halfway there he starts feeling like he can breathe deeply again. “Well?” she calls down to him. “Does it work?”

“Looks like,” Zed says, feeling miffed. Why would a mating bond, which previously encouraged them to hump like skags at all hours, suddenly want to keep them apart? “Guess you ain’t as smart as you thought you were,” he adds, waiting for the inevitable explosion. Oddly enough, Patricia doesn’t respond at all…but he soon finds out that she was simply waiting for him to come back so that she could bounce a pillow off of his face.

“I wasn’t _wrong_ , you simply failed to interpret my explanation adequately.”

“No, you said this mess was about keepin’ us together – how the hell’re we gonna be together if I need t’scoot across town at the first sign of a cramp?” Zed demands, throwing the pillow back at her.

Patricia ducks the hurled missile, grabs it, and throws it back again. “It is keeping us together by testing the bonds of our relationship. I have read that many relationships do not last after something has kept the couples apart for an extended period of time.”

That’s certainly true enough, Zed thinks. He’s seen it happen, too – long distance relationships seem to have a low success rate…though when you’re living somewhere like Pandora and could be eaten at any moment by an Orc or turned into a kebab by a skeleton warrior (or whatever the hell they’re called), Zed guesses that folks just want to keep their options open.

The ache is starting to build up in his legs, so he gives her a quick kiss before retreating back down the stairs. “I know you ain’t feelin’ all that nice right now, Princess, but if you can hang in ‘til moonrise I’ll get you healed up.”

“I do not want to leave you by yourself,” Patricia says, which makes Zed shake his head in amusement. He’d been left by himself for years now.

“I’ll be okay, but the most important thing is gettin’ you somewhere safe.”

She argues, of course, but this is an argument Zed is not letting her win. He still needs to stash his clothing out on the water, and get far enough away that his pain can’t be shared with Patricia Tannis. Zed makes her promise that she’ll go hang out with Ellie and come find him in one of her stolen canoes after he’s back to his real form, and she finally agrees when another searing pain rips through both their legs.

Zed kisses her for the last time as a human male and retreats to the back of his shop as Patricia walks out the front, still coughing. It kills him to see her in physical difficulty, but least he’ll have the chance to heal her up completely when he’s himself again. He gathers up extra robes and some ampoules of medicine, stuffing them into an oilskin bag he’d bartered for in the Forest, and then locks up the building.

His transformation is as painful as ever but he takes comfort in the knowledge that, _this_ time, he has a full-fledged mate who prefers his natural form and will be waiting for him to take her down to the grotto. Zed tries to keep in mind that he’s most likely about to get the lay of a lifetime once they’re back down there together, and it’s definitely something nice to look forward to after his legs have finished fusing together and all the scales have punched their way out of his skin.

Zed pulls himself up onto a ledge carved by wind and water into the mountain that supports Flamerock Refuge. The pain is slowly ebbing from his body as his healing magic forces it out and he takes deep, even breaths to help the magic work faster. When he’s finally feeling halfway decent, Zed slips back into the water and goes in search of his mate.

Patricia has swiped a rowboat this time, but it’s clear that she’s made a mistake because she has no idea how to actually _row_. Zed watches her from beneath the surface as the boat turns steadily in a circle one way, and then the other. “You need some help with that?” he asks when he finally stops laughing and sticks his head out of the water.

She grunts in frustration and hauls on the oars, making the boat swing wide. “This canoe is being singularly uncooperative!”

“Maybe ‘cause that ain’t a canoe. What _you_ got, Princess, is a rowboat.” Zed motions for her to sit back and climbs up into the boat with her, looping his tail around the oarlocks to help balance it. “Here, lemme show ya.”

He demonstrates, over-exaggerating his movements so that they’ll be easier to imitate, and then Patricia’s ready to try it for herself. She makes a few missteps but she’s a fast learner and soon has it down. “This is easy,” Patricia says, looking surprised. “How have I not known how to do this before?”

“Well, you know it now and that’s what counts.” Zed leans against the stern and watches her. “Y’know, in some parts folks’re supposed to sing to whoever they’re haulin’ around in a boat – I heard it’s romantic.”

Patricia eyes him right back. “If you think that I am going to sing to you, I am afraid that you are sorely mistaken.”

Zed grins and drops part of his tail in the water, flipping it up again while Patricia ducks the spray. “I’m sure you got the voice of a Siren.”

“A Siren? Please. Even I can produce better sound than _that_ caterwauling nonsense,” she says haughtily. “You would be up to your eyeballs in romance before you know what hit you, I’m sure.” Patricia finally drops the oars and lunges at him, nearly causing the boat to capsize.

When she’s kissed him to within an inch of his life, Zed slides back into the water and guides the boat around the rocks to a place it can be safely moored. “Wanna go have sex with me?”

“Yes,” she says quickly, jumping at him again.

She’s a lot more relaxed about the trip to his grotto now that she knows exactly how he needs to take her down there, sharing his oxygen with a few kisses that go on longer than they really need to. Patricia also knows by now that she needs to stay in contact with him if she doesn’t want to freeze to death, and drives him to distraction by stroking the sensitive fins at the end of his tail while he tries to build a fire. Next time, Zed thinks, he’ll have the fire built up by the time he brings her down with him.

He tries not to ogle her like a schoolboy as she strips down to her skin because he’s an _adult_ , damn it, and he’s seen her naked so many times that he should start to become immune. His hormones have other ideas, and Zed stops fighting the impulse to stare at her. Patricia’s long human limbs emerge from her clothing and when he’s treated to the sight of all that bare, creamy skin it feels like this is the first time he’s ever seen her naked.

Zed’s tail slides up one of those shapely calves and she opens her legs for him. _To_ him. Like it’s completely normal for a human woman to part her thighs in invitation to a triton who’d accidentally trapped her into a relationship. “I love you,” he murmurs, and it doesn’t even matter that he no longer expects to hear her say it back to him. He’ll treat her the best he knows how, for as long she wants him to. He’d almost lost her for good earlier; Zed’s not wasting any more time being upset about the possibility that she might never feel the same.

To that end, Zed lays her back on the piled blankets and kisses her breathless. Then he slides down her body and settles in the junction of her eagerly spread thighs, lowering his mouth to the slickened sweetness between them. He loves her with lips and tongue until she’s come at least twice, then lifts himself back up for more kisses. She demands more from his body, which Zed gives gladly, and he makes sure that his healing magic takes care of any lingering damage from the fire while he’s about it.

Patricia lies against his chest once they’ve finished, petting his scales idly as the coils of Zed’s tail contract around her lower body in a loving embrace. “I enjoyed that very much.”

Zed smiles against her hair. “Me, too.”

“Did you mean it?” She asks after they’ve both gone quiet and half asleep. “I am the only mate you will ever have?”

“I said so, didn’t I? I don’t say stuff I don’t mean…well, not _usually_ ,” Zed amends hastily, thinking of all the things he’s said that were specifically meant to rile her up and get a good fight brewing. “Tritons and undines, we mate once an’ that’s it.”

“Except for your brother-”

“Except for my brother. That whole situation is just weird,” he says.

Patricia yawns widely and stretches, a sensuous movement that gets Zed to thinking with his dick again. “You are still annoying on occasion but I do not think that I have cause to regret being your mate.”

Backhanded or not, he’ll take the compliment. “Same to you, Princess Tannis.”

“Now, I believe that I was promised the opportunity to practice fellatio,” she says as if she’s discussing the lunch menu at the tavern. “I sincerely hope that you will be agreeable.”

Agreeable? Is she insane? “ _I_ sincerely hope there’s never gonna be a day when I say no to that,” Zed tells her.

She clears her throat delicately, and reminds him that he’ll have to teach her how it’s done. Zed sends up another silent round of _thank you, Tina_ as he assures Patricia that it won’t be a problem at all. He’d never thought to see the day when this would be an actual problem to _have_. Patricia smiles as she reaches for him and all he can think of is that even if he gets captured the moment he’s walking out of the water two days from now, it’ll all be worth it.


End file.
